Hearts Are Meant To
by KnightMara
Summary: Between ANH and ESB, Luke befriends a new recruit who is more than what she seems. Will she spell hope or doom for the Rogues? COMPLETED!
1. Default Chapter

Disclaimer: I don't own the GFFA, obviously. I'm just playing with it.  
Warning: There is a love story here involving an original character and a cannon character! (However, I took the Mary Sue quiz just to be on the safe side, considering she's a strong female character who is good at what she does. I scored well below Mary Sueism range-so Mary Sue haters, take heart. This story is safe-I hope!)  
  
Setting: 2.5 years post ANH  
  
  
Hearts are Meant To  
By KnightMara  
  
"Looks like there's hope for our dwindling ranks after all," Wedge's voice chirped as he strode into the barracks assigned to Rogue Squadron.  
  
The others were gathered on one of the bunks playing a modified-and therefore highly risky and unpredictable -game of sabacc. The cards had been randomly programmed, with no interference field to stop the shift in values. Based on the languid postures of the pilots on the bunk, this game had been going on for some time, and would be for some time longer if people didn't start dropping out of the game soon. Wondering what the ante was, Wedge studied the pot a moment and was surprised to discover that it consisted of a pile of ration bars.   
  
Lifting an eyebrow curiously, he asked, "Are we playing to win, or to lose, gentlemen?"  
  
Luke looked up from his hand wearily. "Take a look at the pot, and you tell me."  
  
Utterly taken aback, Wedge nodded with feigned comprehension. "Okay. Different."  
  
Wes laughed. "Hey, you can't give these things away."  
  
"So you're going to bet them off your hands?"  
  
"Precisely."  
  
Wedge was still a bit confused. "So then why are you all playing so seriously?"  
  
Luke swore as his cards suddenly changed values. "Because the first one out gets the pot."  
  
Shaking his head as he plopped down on the adjacent bunk, Wedge muttered, "You guys are insane." Whacking Wes on the back of the head for the fun of it, he added, "And giving sabacc a bad name."  
  
Wes rubbed his head and scowled at him briefly before returning his gaze to his hand.  
  
"So what's this about our dwindling ranks?" Hobbie asked, keeping a close eye on the game.  
  
"We're getting some new blood, boys," Wedge announced enthusiastically.  
  
Luke sat up abruptly. "Hey, how'd you find this out before me?"  
  
Before Wedge could answer, Zev reached over and patted Luke's arm in mock-sympathy. "'Cause we've already decided that you're number is up." He pointed to Wedge. "Meet your replacement."  
  
Wes sniffled dramatically. "We're sure gonna miss you, Boss Wanna-Be."  
  
Luke leaned toward him. "Come here, I don't think Wedge hit you hard enough the first time."  
  
"Relax, Luke," Wedge remarked mirthfully. "All bets on your imminent demise aside," he paused long enough for Luke to shoot him a dry smirk, "Narra just told me in the corridor. He wasn't able to find you all afternoon." Indicating the ongoing game, he added, "Now I know why."  
  
"Hey, Zev," Hobbie called, pointing to Wedge. "Deal him in. He could use some ration bars."  
  
"Are you kidding?" Luke asked in disbelief. "He's Corellian. Probably has a bunch of chip-cards stashed up his sleeve already."  
  
Wedge remained silent at that, and the others exchanged amused glances.  
  
"So when do we get to meet this new blood?" Zev asked.  
  
"Dunno," answered Wedge with a shrug. "They're arriving on the next shuttle, from what I heard. Other than that, can't tell ya'."  
  
Luke nodded a second before throwing his cards down on the bunk. "Well, I want some lunch," he sighed. "So, I fold." As the others watched with expressions that fluctuated somewhere between relief that the game was over and thankfulness that they hadn't been the one to call it, Luke scooped up the pot and moved off the bunk. To everyone's amazement, he then dumped the armful of ration bars into Wedge's lap. "In honor of your impending promotion," he quipped with a sly grin. Then he strode without another word out of the room.  
  
The others watched his departure before turning their gaze to the baffled Wedge.  
  
Wes chuckled. "Well, now I'm sure of it. He's definitely dead."  
  
******************************************  
  
  
Luke helped himself to a dish of something that seemed more or less edible and walked over to an empty table. Looking around the mess hall of the Alliance's temporary base on Ithull, Luke sighed. In the past two years, every base had proven to be temporary. This was just another on the list. A few teams had been sent out to find another suitable location in case they were forced out of this one as well, and the probability of that happening seemed more likely than ever. Reports of potential sites had been sent back, including one in the Hoth system. The Rogues would probably be dispatched to check it out eventually. Luke shivered at the thought. Having grown up on a desert planet, a snow-covered base was not high on his list of favorites at the moment. He glanced down at his clothes, wishing he hadn't left his jacket on the bunk. Dressed only in his khaki pants and sleeveless shirt, he was downright cold. Then again, according to Leia, he was always cold.  
  
Leia. The thought of her brought out a jumble of mixed emotions. The past two years had wrought changes in their relationship, a relationship that he was unable to explain sufficiently. In the beginning, it had been clearly adoration on his part. After all, she was the princess that he, a farm boy, had rescued from certain death. It would have been impossible for him not to fall for her, given the circumstances. She was undeniably beautiful, charismatic, witty, and she could hold her own against the might of the Imperial forces as well as she could against the roguish advances of one Han Solo. Everything about her screamed for his attention, and for the first year of his service to the Rebellion, he did everything in his power to win some attention in return. In the process, he'd become her dearest friend, her closest confidante, and her savior whenever Solo pushed the envelope too far. But he hadn't won her heart.  
  
Strangely, however, this didn't seem to matter. Instead of feeling crushed or defeated, he felt that it was oddly right that she'd never reciprocated his initial feelings for her. He couldn't fully understand how this change in perspective had come about, but it had, and he'd accepted it. While he couldn't exactly view her as just one of the guys, the idea of a romantic relationship with her seemed almost as incomprehensible as a relationship with one of the Rogues. She was his best friend. Attraction just wasn't an issue.  
  
And yet, he loved her. He would risk his life for hers. Her happiness meant the world to him.  
  
He shook his head in confusion as he dug into his plate of food. He had some serious issues to sort out, or so it seemed.  
  
"Now, you are just way too cute to be looking so seriously disconcerted."  
  
Luke nearly jumped out of his skin at the sound of the throaty female voice that had just spoken. Glancing up to his right, he found himself staring into a pair of mirthful brown eyes. Eyes that belonged to the young woman who was grinning lopsidedly down at him, one slim brown hand on her hip and the other holding her tray. Luke raised his eyebrows and stammered, "S-sorry?"  
  
The young woman merely smiled in return, a large dimple forming in her left cheek. She pointed to the seat across from him at the table. "Do you mind?"  
  
"No, not at all," Luke replied, strangely unable to take his eyes off of her unfamiliar face.  
  
"Thanks," she said, taking a seat.  
  
Resolving not to stare at this stranger who had so unexpectedly invited herself to his lunch table, he looked back down at his food. Eating mechanically, he stole glances at her every few moments, trying to peg down her purpose for coming here and her possible identity. Unconsciously, he was also trying to commit her features to memory. Her black curly hair had been pulled away from the soft brown skin of her face and tied in a loose knot at the back of her neck. Delicately arched eyebrows rested above dark brown eyes with the longest lashes he'd ever seen. The dimple in her cheek disappeared as she ate, and he found himself hoping she'd smile again just so it would return.  
  
She caught his eye on one of his glances. She stopped chewing, her lips curving upward at his gaze. "Yes?" she asked. Her voice was like smoke and satin.  
  
"I'm sorry," Luke answered, grasping at dignity as he lowered his own fork. "I didn't get your name." It was the most sophisticated response his brain could come up with.  
  
She smiled once again, to Luke's immense pleasure. "Genna," she replied. "With a G. Not Gina, or Gene, or Jenni, as I've been frequently called by obnoxious people who care less about your identity and more about what you could possibly do for them. It's Genna, plain and simple."  
  
Luke bit his lip, suppressing his amusement at her unexpected response to his question. "Okay, then. Genna it is."  
  
She nodded. "And you are?"  
  
"Luke," he responded. "With an L."  
  
Again, she flashed her stunning smile at him, and he wondered why he was so mesmerized with it. Or with her. So far, all he knew about her was her name. That, and the fact that she was stunning. Even in a standard flight suit.   
  
Taking another bite of her food, she cocked her head to one side and studied him for a moment. "So tell me, Luke with an L, why were you so perplexed earlier? Pondering the mysteries of the universe?"  
  
Luke chuckled lightly. "Hardly," he said, pushing his food around with his fork. "More like pondering the mysteries of relationships, if you must know."  
  
"Tsk, tsk," she responded, shaking her head and giving a dramatic sigh. "Say no more. I know your story, friend. You're having problems with your girlfriend, and you were sitting here contemplating how you could possibly make things right again. And now I've come along and I've just let loose a whole new set of problems. Because now she's going to see you talking to me, and it's obvious that you're absolutely smitten, so she's going to get jealous. And now you two are going to have a fight, and the situation is going to get worse than it was when you first came in here. And of course, it will be all my fault, and I'll feel truly guilty about it once I leave. Because now I've made your life that much more complicated, and you already seemed so deeply concerned about things when I first walked in."  
  
Luke laughed. "You know, you are amazing."  
  
Genna leaned in toward him. "Not even close, was I?"  
  
Luke put his hand over his mouth and imitated intercom static. "She's hyperspace-jumped to the wrong system, Commander," he teased.  
  
"But it was a good story," she countered.  
  
"True," Luke acknowledged. "I gotta' give you points for that."  
  
"Aha," Commander Narra's voice called from across the room. Luke and Genna both turned as he approached the table. "There you are," he spoke to Genna with a warm smile.   
  
"Sir," she replied, with a nod.  
  
"Luke," said Narra, turning toward him, "I see you've met one of our new recruits. Genna Cage will be testing in the sims in about half an hour. I'd like you to be there, and maybe run up against her and some of the others."  
  
Luke nodded, dumbly glancing back and forth between Narra and the young woman who was gazing back at him with a similar look of bewilderment.  
  
"Miss Cage," Narra continued, turning back toward her with a grin, "prepare yourself. No one's beaten Lieutenant Commander Skywalker. Yet. But I must say, I'd be interested to see how you perform against him. Not many TIE pilots survive long enough to switch sides as you have. That alone makes your record pretty impressive."  
  
Finding his voice, Luke retorted with a grin to match Narra's, "Celchu hasn't beaten me."  
  
Narra laughed. "But then again, Tycho wasn't a female. That alone speaks volumes in terms of her moving through the Imperial rank and file."  
  
Gazing back at Genna, Luke had to admit that he was impressed. Not only was she stunningly beautiful, but she was apparently a skilled pilot. As her eyes met his, he was able to read a challenge in them. Smiling, he conceded, "Well, then, I'd be happy to run against her and find out just how good she really is."  
  
"Good," responded Narra. "See you in half an hour."  
  
Luke watched him leave, and then turned to see that Genna had taken her last bite and was getting up from the table.  
  
Tucking a tendril of her curly hair behind her ear, she winked at him. "See you in the sims, Lieutenant Commander," she said before walking her tray to the trash receptacle.  
  
Placing his elbows on the table and resting his chin on his hands as he watched her go, he sighed. "Indeed." 


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I don't own any of this.  
Spoilers: Uh, a few references to the Star Wars Comic series from the 80s if that counts.  
  
Hearts are Meant To: Chapter 2  
  
  
"I need a shower," Luke groaned as he and some of the other Rogues headed toward their barracks. Tired, sweaty, and nearly cross-eyed from too much time spent in the sims, he wanted nothing more than to get cleaned up and take the rest of the day off.  
  
"Man, they really gave you quite a run in those sims today, didn't they?" laughed Wes.  
  
Luke narrowed his eyes at him, but said nothing as they continued walking.  
  
"So, what do you think of them, Boss?" Wedge pressed, walking up behind Luke.  
  
Shrugging his shoulders as nonchalantly as he could, Luke replied, "Not bad, I guess."  
  
"Not bad?" cried Zev in disbelief. "That girl was amazing."  
  
"So was the kid," Wes added.  
  
"I agree," said Wedge. He quickened his pace to match Luke's stride and walked beside him. "I'd say Genna and Dack are definitely Rogue material."  
  
Luke thought a moment. "Genna, yes," he conceded, "although I want to talk to Tycho before I make my final call on that one. Dack," he paused, "I'm not sure. He seems a little too excitable, if you ask me."  
  
"And you were never like that, were you, Luke?" Wedge teased putting a hand on Luke's shoulder. He immediately removed it disgustedly. "Ugh, Luke. Get a shower. You're gross."  
  
"Ha ha," Luke replied with exaggerated sarcasm. "Next time YOU can fly one of those things 'til you can't see straight."  
  
"For someone who enjoys flying," Wes put in, "you sure get cranky."  
  
"Go kiss a dug," Luke snapped without much venom.  
  
While the others laughed, Wes grabbed Luke's forearm and began dragging him toward the barracks. "Okay, this man needs a shower, some food, and a serious change of attitude and clothing," he hollered, "on the double!"  
  
Even Luke had to grin as he was being pulled, and he quipped, "Janson, you are certifiable!"  
  
Wes stopped and gave an exaggerated salute. "That's why I'm a Rogue, sir!"  
  
Wedge grinned and nudged him. "You'd better watch it there, or Luke'll send your rear back to Red Flight."  
  
Luke chuckled. "Yeah. Let Narra deal with you."  
  
"Ha!" countered Wes. "My ego's far too great for Red Flight!"  
  
Zev piped up. "Is it just me, or are we all a little bit punchy this afternoon?"  
  
Luke threw back his head with a huge dramatic laugh before throwing his arm over Zev's shoulders. "Just another glorious day in the life of the men and women bound and committed to service in the Alliance!" he said with pronounced dignity.  
  
"Luke," Zev replied, scrunching his nose at him, "you really stink."  
  
With that, Luke threw his hands up in the air in exasperated surrender. "That's it! I give up!" Turning around to face the group, he increased his pace while heading backwards. "It's been real, guys. But I'm afraid you'll just have to find someone else to abuse for now. I'm going to take my offensively smelling self out of your presence, and I'm going to leave you all here to laugh about it. See you guys at dinner." Waving a hand in a grand gesture of farewell, he turned back around and sprinted toward the barracks.  
  
As he jogged, thoughts of today's run in the sims raced through his mind. Zev and Wedge were right, Genna WAS amazing. She was fast, capable, inspired, resourceful, innovative, and calm under pressure. And she was downright hard to kill. It was no wonder she had survived for so long as an Imperial. She was just that good. And to think, she was only a year older than he was. He recalled watching her exit the sims, her face calm and expressionless even as thin beads of sweat trickled off of her forehead. She had simply grabbed a towel, flashed him a polite smile, and sat on the bench to await her results. He couldn't recall ever seeing such incredible poise but once, and that had been displayed by the Princess of Alderaan. But while Leia was regal and diplomatic, Genna had an unmistakable edge that made her absolutely captivating.  
  
Wait!Why was he doing this? Why suddenly draw comparisons between his best friend and a new recruit whom he hardly knew? This was ridiculous.   
  
Shaking the thoughts from his mind, he tried to focus on the others who had been tested in the sims today. There had been five new recruits, and only two had seemed close to Rogue material. Meaning, only two of them were good enough and insane enough to fly in the Alliance's most maniacal assembly of pilots, affectionately deemed Rogue Squadron. The young kid, Dack, was one of them.  
  
The other was the young woman who suddenly appeared at Luke's door as he rounded the corner.  
  
He skidded to a halt.  
  
"Getting some exercise, Lieutenant Commander?" Genna asked in her rich, smoky voice as she leaned on wall by the door, still in her flight suit.  
  
Breathless, Luke grinned and replied, "Earlier at lunch, it was Luke with an L. Now it's Lieutenant Commander?"  
  
"Hmmm," she nodded, returning his grin. "That was before I knew you were a superior officer." Stepping away from the wall and toward him, she added, "Possibly my commanding officer."  
  
"Possibly," Luke stressed, feeling very self-conscious about his filthy appearance all of a sudden. "That remains to be seen."  
  
She raised her chin in testy opposition. "Don't trust me?"  
  
Luke folded his arms across his chest and leaned against the doorjamb. "How do you know it's a matter of trust? Maybe you're just not good enough," he challenged, trying to maintain the upper hand here, but strangely feeling like he was five years old.  
  
Mimicking his stance on the opposite doorjamb, she remarked, "Oh, I know I'm good enough."  
  
Luke arched an eyebrow, stirred by her unbelievable tenacity. "You're that confident?"  
  
She narrowed her eyes at him, amusement twinkling from behind her defiant scowl. "You want another go at it?"  
  
Luke chuckled, shifting his gaze away from her. She was daring him, and Luke had never been one to walk away from a dare. Yet, he was tired, hungry, and knew that he could very well get beaten this time around if he went for it. He wasn't ready to suffer that kind of humiliation. Especially not in front of a woman who was suddenly becoming more and more attractive to him, although he couldn't fathom why. Her ego was atrocious! He risked an upward glance at her, prepared to handle the situation maturely. Stars, she was stunning!  
  
She flashed a taunting smile at him at his lack of a verbal response. "Afraid I'll beat you this time?"  
  
While that was true, he couldn't admit it in front of her. He glanced back down at his boot as he kicked the floor with his toe. He couldn't look at her. Each time he did, it felt weird. His heart rate would start to pick up again, his cheeks would warm, and he would become little Wormie again. Force, he was supposed to be Lieutenant Commander Luke Skywalker, leader of Rogue Squadron, and not some stupid farm boy! What in the stars was she doing to him?  
  
"Look," he finally managed, trying to pull himself back into some semblance of the Alliance figure that he was, "while your offer is very tempting, I must say no. I just want to get a shower and some dinner." He paused. "And I'm supposed to meet someone," he lied in addition, trying to strengthen his case and look less like a wimp.  
  
"Really?" she responded, pulling herself away from the doorjamb. "Well, then I'm sorry for keeping you, Lieutenant Commander." She smiled politely at him, then winked as she turned away and headed down the corridor.  
  
Stunned, Luke could only watch her go, wondering why his heart was suddenly thudding in his chest. Oddly, he really didn't want her to go, and part of him wanted to call her back just so he could continue to talk with her. The other part-the more sensible one, he reasoned-acknowledged that he really wasn't in his best form at the moment anyway. Better to get a shower and a nice change of clothes before trying to engage an attractive woman in deep conversation.   
  
"Luke, you're falling for a complete stranger," he murmured to himself under his breath. "Get a grip!"  
  
Taking a deep breath, he palmed open his door and stepped inside. He really needed a shower. A cold one.  
  
***************************  
  
  
It was a cleaner and somewhat calmer Luke Skywalker who plunked himself down with a tray full of food in front of Han Solo.  
  
"Hey, how're ya' doin', kid?" the Corellian asked.  
  
Luke shrugged, picking up his fork and going to town on a Bantha steak the Rebellion's cooks had somehow managed to procure. "Fine, I guess," he said around a mouthful of steak. "How 'bout yourself?"  
  
"Gotta' fly Her Worship out to the Hoth System in the morning," Han groaned, not even bothering to hide his irritation.  
  
"The Hoth System?" Luke asked, staring. "What's out there besides ice?"  
  
Han shook his head. "Trouble."  
  
"I doubt she'll be that difficult, Han," Luke laughed.  
  
"I'm not just talking about the Princess, junior," Han corrected. "It's a recon mission. The Alliance is actually looking into establishing a permanent base there."  
  
Luke's fork froze between his plate and his mouth. "Please, tell me you're joking."  
  
"Nope," Han replied with another shake of his head. "They think those ice caves will be the perfect hiding place. And let's face it, the Imps'll be crazy to look for us there."  
  
"But I nearly froze to death on that Force forsaken planet two years ago," complained Luke. "Like hell I'm going back there!"  
  
Han raised an eyebrow at him, his eyes twinkling with barely suppressed laughter. "And I thought I was upset about this mission. Luke, is this a bad mood I see?" Before Luke could respond, Han's gaze shifted to someone standing just over Luke's head, and he called, "Hey, Your Worship, the kid here doesn't like your Hoth idea."  
  
Mortified, Luke spun around to see Leia standing behind him with a puzzled expression. "What's wrong with it?" she asked him. "They'll never think to look for us there."  
  
Staring back at her intense gaze, Luke realized he wasn't going to get out of this, and he might as well speak his mind now. "That's because no intelligent species would ever think to live there," he countered with a surprising lack of patience in his voice. "The whole planet is frozen, remember?"  
  
"Luke," Leia replied with a sickening expression that rested somewhere between patronizing and reprimanding, "we're Rebels. We're adaptable. I really didn't think you'd have this much of a problem with it."  
  
The combination of her schoolteacher voice and Han's smug expression nearly turned Luke's stomach and he shifted his focus to the ceiling. Cheeks slightly hot with shame and embarrassment, he muttered, "I just don't like the cold, that's all."  
  
"Miss the desert heat, eh Junior?" Han asked with a smirk.  
  
Luke only scowled and went back to attacking his steak.  
  
Leia laughed as she sat down beside him. "Boy, somebody's in a bad mood. I'd have thought you'd be happy with those new recruits that just came in."  
  
"What new recruits?" Han asked.  
  
"A handful of pilots just joined up," Luke replied as he chewed, not looking up from his plate.  
  
"Any good?"  
  
Luke shrugged noncommittally.  
  
Leia chimed in, "Well, from what I've heard from Narra, a few of them might be candidates for Rogue Squadron. One of them is supposedly the best pilot ever to come out of the Imperial Navy."  
  
Han snorted. "I seriously doubt that, Princess."  
  
"And why is that?" she asked with true curiosity. Luke's eyes also focused on the Corellian.  
  
"Because you're lookin' at the best pilot ever to come out of the Imperial Navy," he replied with a fiery gleam in his eye.  
  
Leia was clearly startled. "What?"  
  
Han and Luke both looked at each other in surprise, then back at her. "You didn't know?" Han asked.  
  
"No," Leia answered defensively. She then turned to Luke. "You knew?"  
  
Luke nodded. Of course he knew. Everyone knew. The story of how Han was kicked out of the Navy for trying to rescue Wookies from slavery was legendary. Heck, that was where Chewie's life debt to Han came from. That was why so many people respected Han Solo, even with his smug attitude and mercenary-like love of money. Once Luke had heard the story, it had spread through the base with epidemic proportions. Han, himself, had been quite upset to discover that so many people knew this little tidbit about his history, and Luke had paid handsomely for blabbing about it. Luke stared at Leia in disbelief. Stars, how had she not known?  
  
Leia looked from Han to Luke and back. "How did I manage to fall out of the loop?"  
  
Han jerked a thumb at Luke, who had gone back to eating his steak with feigned innocence. "Crater-mouth over here told everyone about it a long time back."  
  
Luke blushed. That wasn't the first time he'd been accused of having a mouth like a crater. Apparently, old habits die hard. "I said I was sorry."  
  
"Wait," Leia interrupted. "You told everyone else about it, but you didn't tell me?"  
  
Luke's last bite of Bantha steak suddenly became very difficult to swallow. He tried to give her his most apologetic look even as he fought against choking on his meal.   
  
Leia only responded with a teasing glare. "First you complain about Hoth. Now I find out you forgot to fill me in on the local gossip?"  
  
"You should be ashamed of yourself, kid," Han added with a grin.  
  
Luke threw his head back with an exasperated sigh and rolled his eyes. "When did this become Abuse Luke Skywalker Day? Did I miss something on the schedule? Because that seems to be the current theme in my life right now, and I really don't need-" He broke off as his gaze fell upon a group of pilots gathered at a table several meters away. Seated in the center of the group, laughing at the overt advances of the male pilots gathered around her, was none other than Genna Cage. Luke could only stare. Her damp hair was glistening in the light of the mess hall and falling in tiny corkscrew curls all around her face. She must have taken a shower, too, Luke thought. His reaction to the idea made him immediately regret thinking it.  
  
"Who's that?" he heard Han's voice ask. Luke noted that the Corellian had leaned over and was following his gaze.  
  
"One of the new recruits," Luke replied tonelessly.  
  
"She's quite a looker, isn't she?" commented Han in response with a nudge to Luke's shoulder.  
  
"She's also one of the best pilots ever to come out of the Imperial Navy." Again, Luke's voice was flat as he ignored Han's nudge. He was experiencing a strange feeling in the pit of his stomach. Or was it the center of his chest? Not to mention, his throat suddenly felt tight. He didn't like seeing these guys all over her, or her response to their attentions. Or Han's sudden interest.  
  
"That's the one?" Han asked in disbelief.  
  
Almost at the same moment, Leia remarked, "Someone's jealous."  
  
Luke immediately turned his gaze back to Leia, prepared to defend himself against such a ridiculous accusation. Unfortunately, his throat was too dry to speak. He grabbed his cup of water and took a huge gulp before saying, a bit too sharply, "Not me."  
  
Leia responded with a sly smile. "Fine. Then I'll leave you two gentlemen to drool while I prepare for tomorrow's mission." She rose from the table with a grin.  
  
Luke picked up his tray and rose as well, making a conscious effort to ignore the table that Han was still staring at with rapt interest. "Well, as fun as that sounds, I'm not exactly in a drooling mood." He tried not to notice Leia's disbelieving look, but he found himself continuing defensively, "And I have to go speak to Narra and Celchu. So if you'll excuse me."  
  
He left a bit too quickly and too stiffly, but he needed to get out of there. The mess hall had suddenly become far too small and uncomfortable, and he desperately wanted to get his mind away from the dark beauty who had managed to snag his and the rest of the pilots' attentions. He needed to focus. He needed to forget about her and get back to leading his squadron.  
  
Somehow he knew it wasn't going to be easy.  
  
************  
Review, comment, or critique away. BTW, the reference to Hoth pre-ESB was from the old Star Wars comic. Luke crash lands on the planet before the rebels ever decide to build a base there. 


	3. Chapter 3

Hearts Are Meant To: Chapter 3  
  
  
Luke flopped down on his bunk and stared at the underside of Wedge's bunk above his. The rest of the pilots were gathered in the next room over, talking loudly and laughing drunkenly. Luke, however, needed his solitude in order to sort out his thoughts. It was official: Genna and Dack were now Rogues. That meant that Luke was now responsible for the lives of two more people. Two more people would be looking to him to lead them through the next battle and come out alive on the other side. And of those two, one of them was probably more qualified to be in his position than he was.  
  
The one for whose life he really didn't want to be responsible. The one for whose life he was terrified of being responsible.  
  
What was wrong with him? He didn't even know her. He'd only met her eight hours ago. How had he become so irrational over a single person in only eight hours' time?   
  
How had he fallen so deeply for a single person in only eight hours' time?  
  
He flopped over onto his stomach and folded his hands under his chin. No, he was being ridiculous. He hadn't fallen for her. It was impossible. You don't fall for someone at first sight. You can be intrigued by them, or even attracted to them. But you don't fall for them. You don't have an image of them emblazoned upon the very core of your being. It just doesn't happen. He must be overreacting. Maybe it was the pressures of commanding a squadron of pilots, or the stress of knowing that they needed to have another base lined up in case something went wrong here on Ithull. Or the strange isolation he sometimes felt as a result of his pursuit of the Force training he barely understood.   
  
Or maybe it was because she was just so incredible. She was more than incredible. She was perfect. She was a great pilot, a beautiful woman, and a formidable presence in the base.  
  
And, suddenly, she was in his room.  
  
His head turned toward the door a split second after he heard it slide open. Lost in his thoughts, he hadn't sensed her approach. Yet, there she stood, leaning heavily on the doorframe, staring down at him.  
  
"Have a headache, Commander?" she drawled.  
  
She was also very drunk, from the looks of it. Her brown eyes seemed slightly glassy, and she was leaning more heavily than a person normally would unless they were intoxicated.  
  
Luke sat up quickly, smacking his head on Wedge's bunk as he did so. He rubbed his sore head as he gazed up at her. "I do now," he grumbled.  
  
She jerked her thumb toward the other room. "You're missing a great time."  
  
"Deliberately engaging in an activity that is going to make me feel miserable in the morning isn't exactly my idea of a good time," he muttered, trying to keep his voice steady even as his heart raced in his chest.  
  
"Many would argue with you," she replied moving unsteadily toward him.  
  
Luke watched her nervously as she made her way toward the bunk and sat down rather ungracefully. He noted that she sat particularly close to him, and his heart nearly jumped out of his chest. Her proximity was having a somewhat profound effect on him at the moment, and he resolved not to look at her. Even drunk, she was beautiful. And somehow, she seemed more dangerous, though he didn't know why.  
  
"So why aren't you still over there?" he asked while staring at his feet.  
  
"Oh, you know," she laughed in her husky voice. "Too many men hanging around, hitting on me, trying to show me what studs they are. Gets rather annoying."  
  
"You seemed to be enjoying it at dinner," he countered, a bit more sharply than he intended.  
  
"Oh, I was," she said, leaning in closer. He could smell the alcohol on her breath, and he shuddered. That wasn't exactly the most attractive scent in the galaxy. "But maybe the person I wanted to have hitting on me wasn't in the room at the time," she continued.  
  
He balked at that. He'd never expected such a comment from any female, least of all this new recruit who was now under his command. Could she possibly be more forward? Shocked at her unexpected comment, he looked at her in disbelief.  
  
She, in turn, laughed. "That look was absolutely priceless!" she giggled. "Well worth the price of admission. Don't worry, Commander. I was only teasing."  
  
Luke grimaced at the heavy scent of liquor that now hung very close to his face. "You are so drunk," he said with disgust.  
  
Genna frowned at him. "And you are quite the prig, aren't you?"  
  
Luke's eyes narrowed at her. "Excuse me?"  
  
"Come on, have a little fun," she said. "Or are you above that, Lieutenant Commander Skywalker? Can't fraternize with us lesser beings in the lower ranks?"  
  
Luke simply glared at her. He couldn't believe that this beautiful woman had so suddenly become an obnoxious drunkard.  
  
"No, wait," she said giggling. "I know what it is. The guys were right: you're saving yourself for the Princess, aren't you?"  
  
"What?" Luke cried, unable to hide his astonishment.  
  
"Oh, that's just so adorable," she remarked, continuing to laugh. "It's a shame, though. We could have had something, you and I."  
  
"You know," Luke began sharply, pointing a finger right in her face, "I don't know you that well, but I like you better sober."  
  
"Didn't your mother ever teach you that it's rude to point?" she teased.  
  
Luke tensed and looked away. "No."  
  
"Well, she should have."  
  
Inexplicably, Luke turned to her and snapped, "Considering I never knew her, that would have been difficult!" He looked back down at the floor, trying to swallow back the anger and hostility that seemed to be burning a hole in his chest. He could feel his jaw muscles tense, and he wondered why she had riled him so much. He also wondered why he hadn't been able to control his outburst. He'd been getting much better at that lately. Why had he snapped now?  
  
Suddenly, he felt her hand on his arm. "Sith, I'm sorry," he heard her say. "I was only teasing you. I didn't know."  
  
"It's all right," Luke replied tensely, and not very convincingly. He was still staring at the floor.  
  
He heard and sensed Genna flop backwards on the bed with a sigh. "I guess I did kind of overdo it over there." When Luke remained silent, she continued. "I don't usually get this drunk. But, they kept offering me drinks, and I kept accepting. Kind of stupid, I know. But, hey, what can you do?"  
  
"Tell them, 'No thanks'," answered Luke.  
  
Genna laughed. "That won't get me a date, though."  
  
"Well, neither will acting like a drunken jerk," he argued.  
  
"Point taken," she sighed. "Although I'm usually not this bad. I'm probably not making that great an impression on you, am I?"  
  
At that, Luke felt his lips twitch upward, threatening to form into a smile. Ironically, as drunk and obnoxious as she was right now, he was thankful for it. Before she had entered his room, he'd thought she was the perfect woman, and he'd been obsessed with that ideal. She was just as Leia had been when he first spotted the Princess on the Death Star, a dream girl. Now, however, like Leia and everyone else, Genna was clearly fallible. She was human. Somehow, he felt more at ease knowing that. He turned and looked at her. She was lying on her back, her black ringlets fanned out on the bunk. Looking up at him with her large brown eyes, she seemed just as apologetic as drunk. Softening, he did, then, smile at her.   
  
"As your commanding officer, no," he finally commented.   
  
"Damn," she groaned, turning her gaze upward to Wedge's bunk. "Guess I'll just have to show you up on the sims tomorrow."  
  
Now it was Luke's turn to laugh. "With the hangover you're likely to have, I'd like to see you try."  
  
Looking back at him, she propped herself rather unsteadily on one elbow. "Is that a challenge?"  
  
Luke shook his head with a grin. "I don't make challenges to people who aren't apt to remember them in the morning."  
  
She leaned in closer, "Well, then, since I'm not likely to remember this in the morning, as you suggest, can I ask you something?"  
  
Luke arched is eyebrows dubiously. "What?"  
  
"Do you think I'm a good pilot?"  
  
Luke laughed. "You're a Rogue, now, aren't you?"  
  
Genna pressed, "But am I good?"  
  
Feeling more comfortable in her presence than he had since she'd arrived, he gently took her chin in his hand. "Judging from the sims, you're better than good."  
  
She smiled at that, her alluring dimple reappearing on her cheek. "Thank you."  
  
Luke frowned as he continued to hold her chin. "Why does that mean so much to you?"  
  
In response, she flopped back down with a sigh. "Because that's all I have." She shut her eyes. "That's all I am," she added in barely a whisper.  
  
A wistful smile crept upon his face. He knew what that was like. Growing up on Tatooine, the only thing he'd had to cling to was his ability to pilot. That was the one shining light in the dreariness he'd felt life in the desert to be. "I know what you mean," he replied softly.  
  
Genna remained quiet. Too quiet, actually. Her breathing seemed regular and even, her lips slightly parted. Luke leaned forward. Had she fallen asleep?  
  
"Genna?" he asked quietly.  
  
No response.  
  
Luke groaned. She had, indeed, fallen asleep. And while the thought of having a beautiful woman asleep in his bed was not exactly a nightmare, it did leave Luke with one problem. Where was he supposed to sleep? He was not quite ready to sleep in the same bed with a girl he'd just met, no matter how beautiful she was. Maybe he was priggish, like she'd said, but he wasn't about to do it anyway.  
  
He saw that her legs were dangling over the edge, and he gently lifted them onto the bed and straightened her out. He grabbed the blanket from the foot of the bed and draped it over her, noting that she must have really had too much to drink to have passed out so thoroughly and quickly. Yes, she was definitely human. Beautiful, but human.  
  
He gently reached over and brushed one of her curls away from her face. The touch was electric, but he resisted the urge to lean in and kiss her softly. That would have been a bit too silly and romantic. Instead, he smiled at the strange sensations that she had wrought in him and which were now coursing through his body, and went in search of a place to sleep for the night. And he knew he'd be teased about this in the morning.   
  
************  
  
Luke awoke in the middle of the night to the unpleasant sound of someone being very sick in the 'fresher. His instinctive desire to help and assist people in trouble kicked in before his sleepy brain did, and he swung his legs out of bed. The floor didn't meet him where he expected it to, and he fell. Hard. Pain brought him to full awareness in an instant as his foot twisted in what was definitely the wrong direction with a sickening snap. Why hadn't he remembered that he was sleeping in Wedge's bunk before he tried to get out of bed? His eyes watered as he bit down on his lip to keep from howling as he sank to the floor.  
  
The horrible sound of retching continued from the 'fresher. Of course, now that he was fully awake but in no shape to offer any assistance, he knew exactly who was in there.  
  
"You okay, Genna?" he asked in what irritatingly sounded like a whimper. He really needed to work on his ability to handle pain.  
  
He was answered by the sound of more retching. Clearly, she wasn't okay. He'd been afraid something like this would happen.  
  
Now what? He was stuck on the floor of the very dark room while a very beautiful woman was in obvious distress. He tried to get his good foot under him in order to pull himself off of the floor somewhat, and, using his own bunk as leverage, he managed to stand. The distance between his bunk and the 'fresher had never seemed so great. He bit his lip and tried a one-legged hop, but winced as the jarring movement sent pain radiating up his leg. The staggering intensity of it began to sap his strength, and he decided that crawling across the floor would probably be his best bet. Gratefully sitting down on the cold floor once again, he took a moment to collect himself as the throb in his ankle lessened somewhat. Then, planting his arms behind him, he scooted himself backwards on his rear toward the 'fresher.   
  
Once by the door, he knocked on it and called, "Genna, how are you doing in there?"  
  
Silence greeted him from the other side.  
  
That worried him. "Genna, answer me."  
  
In response, the fresher door opened, and a grey-faced Genna appeared standing shakily in the doorway. She looked bewildered as she replied, "I think I'm a little better, now that I've gotten that over with." She paused. "Where are you?"  
  
"Down here," Luke called from the patch of floor by the door, bathed in the light of the 'fresher. When she looked down at him, he offered a slight wave and smile.   
  
"What the blazes?" Genna asked, as she knelt down beside him. Her normally radiant brown skin was pasty and covered with beads of sweat, and her eyes showed that she was definitely dealing with one gigantic hangover. Yet, as awful as she must have been feeling, she clearly seemed more concerned about the young man who was sitting beside the 'fresher door instead of standing beside it.  
  
"I was just checking to see if you're okay," he said innocently.  
  
Genna frowned, puzzled. "Okay, I guess. My head may be a little out of sorts at the moment, but . . .can I ask why you're sitting on the floor?"  
  
Luke gave a weak grin. "I think I broke my ankle," he explained lamely.  
  
Genna ran a hand across her damp forehead. "Are you serious?"  
  
Mortified beyond words, Luke nodded. "I forgot that I was sleeping on the top bunk."  
  
"And you fell trying to get out, right?" Genna finished for him. "Force's sake, Luke, couldn't you have done this when I wasn't feeling miserable?"  
  
"It's your fault," he countered, laughing in spite of his predicament.  
  
"My fault?" Genna asked, confused.  
  
"If you hadn't been so loud in there, I'd still be asleep," Luke explained. "Learn how to get sick quietly instead of waking up your roommates and making them get out of bed because they're concerned."  
  
"What?"  
  
"Hey, Wedge never woke me up, and that's one guy who knows the price of partying," Luke said, innocently.  
  
"Wedge is normally your roommate, I take it?" she asked. When he nodded, she queried, "Well, where is he now?"  
  
"Next door," Luke answered. "He did the same thing you did, passing out from the alcohol on someone else's bunk. There was a lot of that going on, from what I understand. I don't think Alliance Command is going to be all that happy in the morning."  
  
"Yeah, well they're going to be even less happy when they find out you broke your ankle getting out of bed," Genna added with a wry grin.  
  
Luke smiled sheepishly. "Well, I don't think it's actually broken. At least, I hope it isn't."  
  
"Let's just see about that," Genna argued. Rising to her feet with a loud groan, she put one hand to her head and staggered to the light switch. The room was instantly flooded with light, and Genna squinted, moaning once more and swearing in several languages. She staggered back over to Luke and crouched down beside him.  
  
Luke was suddenly very self-conscious. His chest was bare, as he was clad only in a pair of long sleeping pants. Crossing his arms to shield himself somewhat from her gaze, he realized that it could have been worse. He could have been wearing shorts.  
  
Much to his relief, her gaze was focused squarely on his ankle. Luke glanced down at it as well, and he immediately wished he hadn't. His toes were badly discolored, and his ankle was already beginning to swell. Not to mention, it just didn't look quite right.  
  
"Can you move your toes at all?" Genna asked.  
  
Luke managed a slight shift of his big toe, but the pain it brought made him want to cry out. Refusing to show weakness in front of the woman seated beside him, he swallowed back the cry with an effort that threatened to bring tears to his eyes. He was saved from having to find his voice, however, when Genna spoke first.  
  
"I'll take that as a 'no'," she remarked with a sympathetic grin.  
  
Luke grimaced and spoke through a very tight throat, "So is it broken, you think?"  
  
"Still not sure," Genna answered with a shrug. "And I don't want to be the one to mess with it to find out. It could just as well be a very bad sprain, but I'm a pilot, not a medic."  
  
"So I hear," he commented dryly.  
  
For a moment, he was afraid his words had been taken as an insult, for she seemed to pale once he'd said them. But then, she suddenly rose and crossed over him to the 'fresher once again. Frowning at the sounds that followed, Luke really felt sorry for her. Well, at least he wasn't the only one showing weakness.  
  
"What exactly did you have to drink last night?" he ventured to ask once things had quieted down once more.  
  
Genna groaned. "Distilled j'ykuga, I believe."  
  
Luke shuddered. "Wonder where they picked that up. That stuff's harsh."  
  
"You're telling me," Genna said, coming back out of the 'fresher to slump beside him. She was quite pale. "I've gotten sick on it before. Don't know what possessed me to drink it again."  
  
"A shot at a date is what I believe you said last night," Luke teased.  
  
Genna scowled, but was too weak to put any real venom behind it.  
  
"So, now what?" Luke asked after a moment's silence. "We can call for a medic, and get the base all riled up with speculation over what happened. Or we can sit here and wait until someone wakes up and can help me over to the medcenter as discreetly as possible."  
  
Genna shrugged. "Well, I could use a few painkillers, myself, right now. But I'd rather just sit here for a little bit. If you can hold out, that is?"  
  
Luke nodded. "As long as I don't move, I can handle the throbbing. And I've got some painkillers in the chest at the foot of the bed, if you want them."  
  
Genna could barely contain her relief. "Oh, yes! Thank you," she cried as she headed over to the chest he had indicated. Sure enough, there they were, and she gladly helped herself to a few. "But if you don't mind me asking, how did you manage a stash of painkillers?"  
  
Luke smiled. "My friend, Han, lent them to me. Said you never know when you might need them."  
  
Genna nodded. "Isn't that the truth!"  
  
"Actually," Luke said sheepishly, "could you pass me a few?" He really didn't want to ask, but his ankle was actually hurting quite a bit, even though he was keeping it still.  
  
Genna passed them over to him with a slight grin. "You want a pillow to go with that?"  
  
He quickly popped the painkillers into his mouth and asked, "Huh?"  
  
"To elevate your foot and keep it from swelling as badly," she explained in irritation, as though this were common knowledge all over the galaxy.  
  
Luke blushed. "Uh, sure," he said, although she had already moved to grab the pillow.   
  
"Lift your leg, and I'll slide the pillow under your foot," she instructed.  
  
Luke did as instructed, although the pain of lifting his leg became so great she had to assist. Who would have thought that one little twist of the ankle could be so painful? He'd heard of people losing limbs and not batting an eye. Well, judging from how he was handling this, he was going to be a lot more careful with his appendages from now on.  
  
Once Genna had maneuvered the pillow under his foot, she slumped down beside him against the wall. "Better?"  
  
"That was supposed to make me feel better?" Luke asked incredulously.   
  
Genna shrugged. "Like I said, I'm a pilot, not a medic."  
  
Luke grinned at her and then tried to relax against the wall as she had done. This wasn't exactly his idea of spending a night with a beautiful woman, he mused, wondering what else could possibly happen on this rather awkward evening. After all, it was still several hours until dawn.  
  
*******************  
  
  
"That's a lie!"  
  
"No, I swear," Luke laughed, looking down into the eyes of the woman whose head was pillowed on his lap. Unable to sleep due to their various pains and the awkwardness of the situation, they'd spent the last two hours talking about anything and everything. In the process, Genna had stretched out on the floor and placed her head upon his good leg to get a bit more comfortable. This, of course, suited Luke just fine. "It's the truth."  
  
She shifted slightly, as though trying to gauge his sincerity. "You mean to tell me that the Empire is wasting all these resources searching the galaxy for a punk who got off a lucky shot?"  
  
"Hey," Luke scowled defensively. "I wouldn't say it was lucky. That took some serious skill."  
  
"Okay, farm boy," Genna teased. "So where did you pick up this 'skill,' as you call it? Dusting crops?"  
  
Luke shook his head with a grin. "Natural talent. My father was a great pilot, so I guess I inherited it from him."  
  
Genna was silent a moment. "You never met him, did you?" she finally asked in an odd tone.  
  
Taken off-guard by the question, Luke stiffened. "How did you know?"  
  
Genna shrugged her shoulders. The gesture was somewhat awkward in her current position. "I guess it was the way you said that just then. Kind of like the way I talk about my own dad. Never knew him either. Heard stories about him all the time from my mother and my uncle, but I never met him. He died right after I was born."  
  
Luke frowned. "But your family talked about him?"  
  
Genna looked at him incredulously. "Well, yeah. My mom always said how much she loved him. She always said that talking about him kept him alive for her somehow. And there were pictures of him all over the house when I was growing up." She paused for a moment, losing herself in memory. "You know, it's weird, but she would laugh at a funny story about him and seem like she was going to cry at the same time. I never really understood it, but it seemed to be her way of making sure I grew up with a strong sense of knowing both my parents, even though I only grew up with one."  
  
Her words pierced Luke with a sudden sense of longing and regret. He hadn't grown up knowing either of his parents. He'd even been discouraged from asking questions about them. As a result, he knew next to nothing about his father and even less of his mother. It wasn't fair, he thought, shutting his eyes to the sudden rush of envy he now felt. Envy that he'd often felt throughout his life.  
  
"Oh, stars, Luke," he heard Genna gasp suddenly, and he felt her head lift from his lap.  
  
He opened his eyes to see what was wrong, afraid she was going to be sick again. Instead, she was staring at him with a look that very closely resembled pity. His stomach soured.  
  
Not taking her eyes from him, she said, "I'm sorry. It must be the alcohol; it's making me dumb and stupid. I just realized, Luke, that you didn't know either of your parents."  
  
Unable to stand the pathetic gaze she had fixed him with, he turned away. "No, I didn't."  
  
"And here I am talking about my own family, not realizing what you must be feeling."  
  
Luke couldn't help but laugh weakly, even as he stared at the floor. "Don't worry about it. I've had twenty years to get used to being an orphan, and Leia talks about her family on Alderaan all of the time."  
  
There was a silence from Genna that stretched out for what seemed to be an eternity until Luke finally turned his head to look at her. He expected to see her still gazing at him with a sickening look of utter pity. What he saw was quite different.  
  
Her features were tight and her eyes reflected a deep pool of pain that was welling within her. In a strained voice she whispered, "We all do."  
  
Luke felt the blood drain from his face as the full import of her words hit him like a blow to the gut. "You're from Alderaan?" he finally managed. She didn't answer, but her face told him everything. "B-but, how?"  
  
She snorted, a single tear attempting to work its way out of her left eye, even as she tried to appear indifferent. "Hey, we can't all look and act like the Princess Leia Organa, now."  
  
Bemused, Luke could only stare at her, not knowing what to say.  
  
Genna sighed, and continued, taking the pressure off of him to speak. "You thought I was Corellian, right? The whole ego thing? I'm kind of an enigma, I know. A 'peace-loving' Alderaanian who joins the Imperial Navy and then betrays them by joining the Rebellion after her homeworld is destroyed. What can I say? I've never been good with labels and titles. Hell, I've only been good at one thing in my whole life." She paused, tears welling up in her eyes as she tried to speak once more in a choked voice, "I believed it all, you know? All the lies, all the promises. After all, what else was I gonna' do? I was a young kid who could fly better than anyone I knew. So after I listened to a recruitment tape a couple hundred times, I enrolled in the Academy. 'Join the Ranks of the Proud,' etcetera, etcetera. And I was good! I made it! I was a girl and I made it! I graduated straight into the Imperial Navy, and I thought I had finally become someone I could be proud of." She broke off, a sudden, unexpected sob welling in her throat. "But what do you do when you find out that everything you believe in is a lie? That you've become part of something that destroys what it's promised to protect? That you were somehow a part of the deaths of millions? Your own family? Your whole world? What do you do when all you can feel is anger and hatred and self-loathing?"  
  
Luke watched as she seemed to struggle with the emotions that were threatening to drown her, and he reached over to squeeze her hand in sympathy. His gesture didn't have the effect he intended, however. She flinched and jerked her hand away, hardening her expression and staring at him squarely in the eyes.  
  
"You know what you do?" she asked, leveling her voice. "You plant a bomb on your own carrier and then go into hiding until the Rebel scouts find you!"  
  
For a moment, Luke could only stare back at her in stunned silence. Her confession had completely taken him aback, and he wasn't sure how to process the information. Did she want him to think she was cold and vengeful? Did she want him to think that she was hurt and distraught enough to do anything in her power to right the wrongs of the Empire?   
  
Did she want him to think that she was a murderer?  
  
All of these thoughts raced through his mind as he stared into the eyes of the young woman he had come to know so intimately in the past seventeen hours. And yet he didn't think any of these things about her. In fact, he thought reflectively, she was much like himself.  
  
Undaunted, he reached for her hand once more and gripped it tightly so that she couldn't pull it away. Without shifting his gaze from her eyes, he said quietly, "Or you fire a single shot that kills an entire space-station full of people."  
  
They remained silent for a long space, as she seemed to be trying to reconcile his own words with what she had just revealed to him. Luke refused to take his eyes off of her, however.  
  
Eventually, she spoke again. "I guess we're just a pair of dangerous criminals, then, aren't we?" Her face was emotionless, but Luke could feel the tension in her dissipate.  
  
"Yeah," Luke agreed. "I guess, in a normal universe, we would be." He paused with a slight, soft grin. "But here, we're just another group of rebels."  
  
Luke noted with satisfaction that the tension really did melt from her features then, and she smiled gently back at him. "That's quite true," she said, shifting her body to lean her head upon his leg once more. "And you know what else?"  
  
"What?"  
  
"We're going to be a couple of tired rebels in the morning," she replied, smiling up at him from his lap.  
  
Luke chuckled. "Well, considering the circumstances, I think I'll probably be excused from duty tomorrow morning. Though, I'm not sure about you."  
  
Genna's smile broadened, even though it held a hint of self-reproach. "I'm pretty sure they'll find me in no shape to do anything effective come daybreak.  
  
"You and about two thirds of the pilots, from what I understand," Luke amended wryly.  
  
Genna playfully smacked him in the chest in response. "Well, what kind of commander are you? Letting your men get drunk like that? You should be ashamed of yourself, Lieutenant Commander Skywalker?"  
  
Luke rolled his eyes. "Not that again."  
  
Genna responded with a soft laugh as she closed her eyes and relaxed upon Luke's lap. "You'd better just be happy that I have a really bad hangover right now."  
  
Intrigued, Luke looked down at her and asked, "Why?"  
  
"Because it got me to spend the night with you, didn't it?" she teased, opening one eye to look up at him. "I'm not usually so forward with commanding officers."  
  
Luke laughed at that, partly out of true amusement and partly out of a self-conscious desire to mask the surge of feelings her brief comment had suddenly released through his body. "Well, I must admit that you are a much nicer looking roommate than Wedge," he teased back.  
  
Genna grinned back at him, closing her eyes once more. "It's just a shame we're in such bad shape right now. We could have had a lot of fun this evening."  
  
Luke shrugged. "I don't know. I've actually enjoyed getting to know you like this, as strange as that may seem."  
  
Genna opened her eyes again, and furrowed her brows at him. "You're right, that is strange," she remarked, with a glance that told Luke she thought he was absolutely insane. "I mean, what could be more fun than you twisting your ankle and me carving a path in the floor to the 'fresher while nursing a killer headache?" Then her gaze softened. "But, to be brutally honest, I think I kind of enjoyed it, too." She closed her eyes again and laughed. "What kind of sicko does that make me?"  
  
"Dunno." Luke looked down and stared at her relaxed features for a moment. With her head resting on his leg and her hair fanned out across his pants, she was absolutely beautiful. Her soft, brown skin beckoned to be touched, and Luke found it hard to resist. In fact, he was suddenly finding several urges hard to resist, including the irrational desire to lean forward and kiss her beautiful lips. Resolving to keep his hands and lips to himself, he pulled his gaze away from her and shut his own eyes. Willing himself to relax as he leaned against the wall, he realized that he was actually quite sleepy. Genna seemed to have succumbed to her own tiredness, as her head was growing heavier against his leg. Sighing softly, he added, "I guess I'll just have to get back to you in the morning."  
  
Within seconds, he was asleep. 


	4. Chapter 4

Hearts Are Meant To: Chapter 4  
  
Awareness came slowly. First, there was the sensation of numbness encompassing cheek and temple, with the unfamiliar sensation of something firm and covered in some kind of material pressed against both. Second came the throbbing headache, located right behind each eye.  
  
"Morning," a sleepy voice muttered.  
  
Genna jerked fully awake at the sound and sat up quickly, immediately regretting it as a pair of sledgehammers seemed to go into a frenzy in her brain. Squinting her eyes against the pain, she blinked at the large cup of water that appeared to hover right in the center of her vision. It took a moment for the hand holding the cup to coalesce out of the hazy edges of her sight. Following the hand back to its owner, her gaze finally rested upon the tired features of a young man.  
  
"Morning, Luke," she mumbled as she recognized him. "But I'm not saying what kind of morning." She didn't even attempt to smile as she grasped the cup out of his hand and began to take small sips of water. Even her throat felt terrible, but the water felt good going down. Continuing to drink, she rubbed her now tingling cheek with her hand. "Remind me not to fall asleep on your leg again, will you?"  
  
Luke's laugh was deep with sleep. "You have a hangover, and you blame my leg for it?"  
  
Genna shook her head, wincing at the spasms of pain that shot down her stiff neck. "This is no hangover. It's pure, Sithly hell."  
  
Luke grinned and seemed about to make a comment when he suddenly grimaced. She watched amusedly while he began to flex and straighten his leg, drawing a sharp breath each time he did.  
  
"Leg asleep?" she teased.  
  
"Not anymore," Luke groaned. "And I think it's angry about being awakened."  
  
This time it was Genna's turn to grin. "That makes two of us." Her headache prevented her from laughing at Luke's returning glare, and she continued to sip on her water. Suddenly she looked down at her nearly empty cup. "Hey, where did this water come from?"  
  
Luke tried to look innocent. "Magic?"  
  
"No, really?" Genna pressed, not in the mood to play games at all. "Where did you get it? I know you didn't hobble into the 'fresher with me on your lap, not that you could reach the tap if you did."  
  
Luke shrugged his shoulders and yawned. "Zev brought it in."  
  
"What?" Genna's head gave a mighty throb as her voice rose louder than she had intended.  
  
"Zev brought it in," he repeated, as though she hadn't heard. "He should be back in a few minutes."  
  
"Wait," Genna asked, trying to sound patient through the pounding in her head and the still-sick feeling in her stomach. "Zev came in here and saw me passed out on your lap?"  
  
Luke nodded.  
  
"Well, what did you say?" she demanded. This wasn't exactly the way she wanted to start out with the Rogues. Not to mention what it might do to her reputation if rumors started.  
  
Luke furrowed his brows. "What else was I going to say? The truth." Genna glared, waiting for him to continue. "What?" he asked. "I told him what happened, and he came back with some water for you and said he was going to grab someone to help me to the medcenter."  
  
"That's it?" Genna asked dubiously.  
  
Luke appeared to be taken aback. "Yes, that's it. What do you think I was going to tell him?"  
  
Genna's cheeks flushed hotly, and she glanced down as she finished her water, not wanting to answer the question. Now that it came down to it, she felt ashamed for asking. Luke wasn't the type to boast or brag. That much she'd figured out during their long conversation last night. She felt badly for implying that he could be. Risking a glance up at him, she could tell he was hurt by the unspoken suspicion. "Nothing," she muttered.  
  
"Don't worry," Luke bit out sharply, fatigue seeming to give his voice even more of an edge. "You're virtue is safe with me, M'lady."  
  
Genna flinched at his sarcasm. "You know, a girl has a right to be protective of herself."  
  
Luke arched his brows. "This coming from the girl who got herself sick trying to get a date and then passed out in someone else's room?"  
  
Luke's sharp retort hit home, and Genna instinctively tried to toss her water in his face. Unfortunately, there was none left, as Luke's smug and dry face proved.  
  
"Would you like some more?" he offered darkly. "If you're going to drink it, that is?"  
  
His tone stung. More than it should have. She glared at him, forcing as much anger outward as she could, although in truth she wasn't really angry with him at all. She was more upset with herself. If anything, her anger at him was merely a result of his unexpected effect upon her, and his response to the fact that she'd just insulted him. Not for the first time since she'd met him, she noticed her heart pounding in her chest and a strange tingling sensation across her skin. Refusing to back down from her intense stare, she willed her heart to calm down, as much for the sake of her pounding head as for her pride. She was not going to be baited by this man. And she'd be damned if she was going to let him hurt her with sharp words, although she was pretty sure she'd deserved it. She was cranky when she didn't feel well, and a bit too sensitive, she mused. That must be the real reason she had reacted to his question with this cold ache in the center of her stomach.   
  
She wasn't making sense, she realized. In fact, she was being rather irrational. Or was it too rational? Her head hurt too much to think, and it was hard enough to think clearly with his blue-eyed gaze boring into her. What was she doing? Why was she still sitting here? What was she waiting for? A tiny voice began to make suggestions to her tired brain. A touch? A kiss?  
  
"No thanks," she finally bit out in response to both his own question and her irritating thoughts, not taking her eyes off his for fear of it being interpreted as weakness. "I've got to go."  
  
Luke only nodded, and she had the satisfaction of seeing him break away from her gaze first. It was a hollow satisfaction, however, she realized as she stood to leave.  
  
She set the empty cup on the floor and moved to the door. "See you later," she called over her shoulder with forced casualness.  
  
She hadn't expected a response. And she didn't receive one.  
  
Palming open the door, Genna stepped out into the corridor and paused as she heard the door slide closed behind her. Leaning against the wall, she drew a shaky breath. She'd made a mess of things. She really had. And with her commanding officer no less. What had gotten into her? Glumly she stepped away from the wall and proceeded down the hallway. She only hoped things didn't get any worse.  
  
********************  
  
"So let me get this straight, kid," Han laughed incredulously. "This girl spent the whole night in your room?"  
  
Luke nodded groggily. A 2-1B was about to set his ankle, which was, in fact, broken, and he'd been given an injection that was numbing his senses as well as his pain.  
  
"And all you did was talk all night?" Han pressed.  
  
Again, Luke nodded.  
  
"Well, did you at least hit it off?"  
  
Luke scowled. He really didn't want to answer these questions at the moment. He just wanted to sleep. He hadn't gotten much rest the night before, and the painkiller was countering whatever energy was left. "Han, please," he groaned irritably.  
  
"Hey, kid," Han protested, "I'm only looking out for you."  
  
"And how is that?" Luke asked wearily.  
  
Han was saved from answering by the approach of the medical droid. "We're ready to proceed, sir," the soft mechanical voice intoned.  
  
Luke glanced upward at the droid and gave an involuntary shudder. He'd seen enough of medical droids that he wasn't as intimidated by their skull-like faces as he had been as a child. However, he still didn't like having to face them. "Ready when you are," he remarked with forced enthusiasm.  
  
The droid moved into position and placed its mechanical hands upon his leg and foot with surprising gentleness. "Sir, this may hurt a bit in spite of the painkiller."  
  
Luke nodded and braced himself. The droid moved swiftly; so swiftly, in fact, that he was finished with the procedure before Luke had a chance to cry out. "Shavit," he swore between clenched teeth when it was all over. "You were right. It hurt."  
  
"I'm sorry, sir," apologized the droid, sounding very sympathetic for a machine.   
  
"You okay, kid?" Han asked, eyebrows raised in concern.  
  
"Yes," Luke hissed, as the pain slowly began to lessen. Glancing up at Han through eyes slightly glazed with fatigue and pain, he added, "I'm thankful for that shot, though."  
  
Han grinned. "I'll bet you are."  
  
At that moment, the door slid open and a blur rushed into the room, too quickly for Luke's drugged gaze to follow. He waited until the figure had stopped beside the medical cot before focusing in on whoever it was. Then he smiled.  
  
"Hi, Leia," he greeted with forced cheerfulness.  
  
"I thought they were kidding!" she exclaimed hotly, with annoyance clearly etched on her features. "How did you get yourself into this mess?"  
  
"He fell out of bed trying to rescue a damsel in distress," Han mirthfully answered.  
  
"What?" Leia wasn't following. She glanced from Han to Luke and back.  
  
Luke sighed and answered, "I slept in Wedge's bunk because one of the Rogues passed out on my bunk after having too much to drink. When I woke up in the middle of the night, it was dark, and I forgot where I was, and I went to get out of bed and fell out instead."  
  
Leia frowned. "So where does the damsel in distress come into the picture?"  
  
Han cleared his throat before clarifying, "It was Genna Cage who passed out in his room."  
  
Luke rolled his eyes at Leia's disbelieving stare. "She was horribly ill in the middle of the night," he tried to explain. "What was I supposed to do?"  
  
"Get out of bed without breaking your ankle for one thing," Leia teased, her lips curving upward at Luke's predicament.  
  
Luke glared. "Don't start with me, too. I'm going to have enough trouble living this down as it is."  
  
"You're really taking this Hoth thing pretty seriously, huh?" she laughed. "Trying to make your point any way you can?"  
  
Luke merely scowled. "Thanks for reminding me."  
  
Han and Leia exchanged amused glances, much to Luke's irritation. He was too off-balance between the drugs and the pain to handle the two of them teasing him about everything. Couldn't they be even a little sympathetic?  
  
Leia, however, continued. "So may I ask what happened to your damsel?"   
  
Luke stared at her for a moment. There was something odd in her tone that he couldn't quite catch. He tried to place it, but he was a bit too groggy. He did notice the teasing look she gave him, however. He shut his eyes and groaned dramatically. "Can't a guy suffer a broken ankle without the humiliation, please?"  
  
"Things didn't go well, I take it," Leia inferred.  
  
Luke opened his eyes and glanced from Leia to Han, realizing he wasn't going to get out of this, no matter how weary he was. Some pair of friends! He looked down at his lap. "She sort of ran out this morning."  
  
"Why?" asked Han and Leia simultaneously.  
  
Luke was dumbfounded. Why were they suddenly so interested in what had happened between Genna and himself? Why was this suddenly worth knowing? What did they care about what happened between himself and a nearly-total stranger during what had turned out to be a rather catastrophic evening? Why couldn't they just let things be and show some sympathy for his injury? "I don't know! She has issues, okay?" he finally replied.  
  
Leia grinned slightly at his words, and Luke noticed what appeared to be a trace of smug satisfaction in that grin. Confused, he wondered at the meaning behind that expression. An alarm bell went off in Luke's mind, but he dismissed it as utterly ridiculous. Surely Leia, of all people, could not be jealous of Genna Cage!  
  
"Well, kid," Han broke in, "we'd love to stay and chat. But the Princess and me, here, got a mission to accomplish." He confidently threw his arm over Leia's shoulders to emphasize his point.  
  
Luke had the satisfaction of watching Leia toss his arm back at him with a look of disgust.  
  
With a sidelong glare directed at Solo, Leia leaned toward Luke and planted a kiss on his forehead. "I do have to leave, Luke. But take care of yourself, okay?"  
  
Luke's lips twitched as he tried to fight the urge to flash a beaming smile, but he simply nodded and watched her as she left without giving Solo another glance.  
  
Looking slightly miffed but retaining the Solo swagger, Han ignored what had just happened and continued, "Enjoy those bone-knitters. And watch you don't break any more bones helpin' out your 'fellow Rogues,' ya' here?"  
  
"And you watch yourself with her, Han," Luke countered tiredly. "I don't want to have to play mediator between you two again 'cause you managed to upset her so much she won't speak to you."  
  
"Come on," Han remarked with a dismissive wave. "How often has that happened?"  
  
An arched eyebrow and a knowing glance were Luke's only responses.  
  
Han chuckled as he turned to leave. "See ya' when I get back, kid."  
  
Luke nodded and laughed. "Take care, Han." He watched his friend leave, then turned to the approaching 2-IB. "Okay, I think I'm ready for those bone-knitters, now." 


	5. Chapter 5

Hearts Are Meant To: Chapter 5  
  
  
"Mission briefing at fifteen-hundred!"  
  
Genna jerked her head up from the arm upon which it rested as Wedge plopped himself down beside her in the common room. As she regarded him with eyes red and puffy from too much alcohol, too little sleep, and enough self-pitying tears to put a bad holo-actress to shame, she wondered how he could be so cheerful upon announcing this.  
  
"We're going on a mission without our squadron leader?" she asked.  
  
Wedge looked at her as though she'd grown a second head. "No, Luke's gonna' fly with us. In fact he's in charge of the briefing."  
  
"But I thought he broke his ankle," she argued.  
  
Wedge gave her a patronizing smile. "Didn't the Empire have bone-knitters, Cage?" Before Genna could reply with an equally sardonic comment, he continued, "Besides, the mission itself isn't until tomorrow morning. He puts his ankle in a bacta wrap, pops a few pills, and by tomorrow he's as good as new."  
  
"Great, what I've always wanted," Genna countered sarcastically. "A drugged pilot leading us into battle."  
  
Wedge laughed at her cynicism. "Don't worry. He'll be in top form by the time we're ready to go up. It'll be interesting to see what happens at this briefing, though. I walked in on him while he was studying the mission data, and he was pretty out of it. Knowing him, he'll keep pouring over it until either the drugs wear off or the data becomes embedded in his subconscious."  
  
Genna gave an insincere chuckle before shifting her gaze away from him. She really didn't want to hear this guy babble on about the man with whom she'd spent last night. In fact, all she really wanted to do was take a nap. She was likely to fall asleep at the briefing if she didn't get some rest soon.  
  
Apparently, her companion wasn't going to let that happen.  
  
"So what exactly happened last night?" Wedge asked.   
  
"Whatever do you mean?" Genna retorted tonelessly.  
  
Wedge shrugged. "Well, you know. You and Luke spent the entire evening together in our room, so I was just wondering what went on between you two."  
  
Genna fixed him with an icy stare. "About the same thing that happened between you and Wes, I would imagine."  
  
Wedge responded with a lopsided to grin to counter her glare. "Yeah, but last time I checked, neither one of us had any broken bones. So something must have gone on that you're not telling about."  
  
Genna rolled her eyes and held up her hands in mock surrender. "You've got me! I can't keep anything from you, can I Wedge? You know, it's amazing how well you know me after only such a short amount of time! I am truly stunned! You possess the epitome of perception! You have seen through all my vain attempts at dissimulation! Well, I guess I'll just have to come clean, then. The truth is, I pushed him out of bed in a moment of heated passion . . . on accident, of course. I am too enamored of him to injure him on purpose! After all, he is a veritable deity of love, is he not? However, to our astonishment, the subsequent pain only heightened the intensity of the experience. It was really quite amazing! Shall I go into detail?" She then paused, waiting for Wedge's response.   
  
It was not what Genna expected. Instead of reacting with irritation, anger, insult, or shock, he instead reacted with outright laughter. Peals upon peals of laughter shook his slight frame, and his eyes teared with the intensity of it. Genna merely stared at him, puzzled by his odd behavior.  
  
When he finally quieted down somewhat, he remarked, "Oh, poor Luke! If he had to put up with you all night, it's no wonder he was too aggravated to talk about it! It's a wonder he didn't knock himself out to put himself out of his misery."   
  
Enraged, Genna opened her mouth to speak.  
  
Wedge beat her to the punch by standing and putting his finger to her lips. "No, no, save it for later! Your gift with words is far too precious to waste all on me." He gave her a wink before heading out of the common room, chuckling as he went.   
  
Genna bit her lip in silence. Her anger drained in an instant, leaving her feeling cold and strangely empty. Her eyes began to sting, and she closed them, willing herself to believe that it was her fatigue that was causing it, although she knew differently.   
  
Two Rogues down. How much longer until she alienated the entire squadron?  
  
She really didn't want to think about it.  
  
***************************  
  
"Ready, Skywalker?"  
  
Luke glanced up from his datapad to see Commander Narra standing in the doorway of his room. He'd hobbled back from the medcenter only an hour earlier, hoping to shake off the last of the painkiller's effects in time to start making some adjustments to Narra's attack strategies. It had worked, but the effort had left his ankle throbbing. It had taken all of his willpower not to take one of the pills that 2-IB had given him, for the droid had told him that the drug would likely make him sleepy, and that was the last thing he needed right now. Instead, he'd propped his foot up on a pillow and drowned himself in his work, hoping to take this mind of the pain. It was working, somewhat.  
  
He smiled, trying to mask his discomfort. "I was just about to come looking for you," he said to Narra.   
  
Narra laughed and crossed the room to sit beside Luke on the bunk. "Well, Antilles came and found me instead. Said if I waited for you, it could be a long wait."  
  
Luke looked down trying to hide his embarrassment. "Wedge is just being Wedge. Trying to make everyone else look bad, especially me."  
  
Again, Narra chuckled. "Well, then, let's take a look at those adjustments you've made."  
  
Luke passed the datapad over to him, and waited as the Commander read over his ideas. His heart thudded in his chest as he watched Narra's face. He never knew why he always got so nervous at this stage, for he'd been doing it long enough to know that Narra was not likely to find fault with his ideas. However, Luke thought to himself, he'd always been more comfortable as a pilot than a leader, and he often doubted his abilities in this area in spite of his experience.   
  
"I notice here that you're not employing Rogue Twelve very much," Narra commented, breaking into his thoughts.  
  
Luke tensed. He'd been expecting this. "Well, with all due respect for her abilities, we've yet to see her in combat. I'd rather get a feel for her performance under pressure before we rely too heavily upon her."  
  
"As we relied upon you at Yavin?" Narra reminded him.  
  
"The circumstances are a little bit different in this instance," Luke argued.  
  
"Yes, Cage has experience where you did not," Narra countered.  
  
Luke struggled not to appear defensive in responding to his remark. "Sir, I don't see the fault in placing the heaviest responsibilities with those who have been tested and proven in combat within Rogue Squadron. This is, after all, our first offensive maneuver against the Imperial fleet in a very, very long time."  
  
"And it's success is crucial," Narra nodded in agreement. "I am well aware of that. But our success at Yavin was even more so. And we still took a chance on you."  
  
Luke looked downward, defeated. "Yes, sir," he said quietly. "I'll make the necessary changes."  
  
Narra placed his hand upon Luke's shoulder. "I'll handle it, don't worry."  
  
For a panicked moment, Luke wondered if Narra had lost confidence in him and his ability to lead the Rogues. As Narra rose from his seat on the bunk, Luke tried to read the expression on his face, hoping it wasn't what he feared.  
  
"In the meantime," Narra said, face full of concern, "I would recommend you taking some of those pain pills you've been avoiding. You've got an hour before the briefing, and that's how long they usually take to kick in."  
  
Luke felt a flood of relief even as he shook his head. "I'm not sure it would help matters any if I fall asleep in the middle of the briefing."  
  
Narra laughed. "Has anyone ever told you that you worry too much, Skywalker?" He tucked the datapad under his arm and looked squarely at Luke. "Sleepiness is an uncommon side effect with that particular drug. Why else do you think they give it to pilots?"  
  
"But 2-1B said--" Luke began.  
  
"Medical droids have to tell you any documented side effects," Narra assured him with a smile. "It's part of their programming. Now, take the pills and I'll see you in an hour." He turned to leave, but stopped himself. "Make that, forty minutes. I want to review the changes I make with you."  
  
Luke nodded, momentarily at a loss for words.  
  
Narra winked at him and started out the door. "Take those pills," he called over his shoulder as he left.  
  
Luke grimaced. He hated being told what to do as though he were a child, and he hated taking anything that could potentially mar his concentration. However, he had to admit to himself that the damage he'd done to the ligaments in his ankle was still quite painful. He reached across the bunk and snatched the packet of pills 2-1B had given him. Mentally crossing his fingers, he swallowed one, and hoped for the best. Or at the very least, he hoped for an end to the constant stream of humiliation he seemed to be suffering. 


	6. Chapter 6

Hearts Are Meant To: Chapter 6  
  
  
From a corner on the far side of the briefing room, Genna watched the Rogues amble through the door. Some noticed her, some pointedly ignored her, and others appeared to be whispering about her. And not in the way she'd prefer. Biting back her annoyance at their behavior, she shifted her attention to the front of the room. Any minute now, the man she now blamed for her degrading introduction to Rogue Squadron would be walking in to stand up there and brief them on what would be her first mission on this side of the war. The thought was somewhat less than thrilling. All the more so because she knew she was as much to blame for her now tarnished reputation as he was. And her conversation with Wedge hadn't helped matters any. Resting her tired head on her hands and closing her eyes, she groaned inwardly at the turn her life had taken. She certainly hadn't expected things to proceed so swiftly downhill when she had joined the Rebellion. She had planned to seek vengeance as a top-notch pilot in the best squadron the Rebels had to offer. Instead, she found herself a loner amidst a rag-tag group of pilots, lead by a clumsy, na•ve, and softhearted farmer who had unwittingly made the pair of them the butt of the latest jokes. Lost in self-reproach and self-pity, she was unaware of the person who had quietly seated himself beside her.  
  
"You seem to have made quite a name for yourself, Miss Cage," a soft voice spoke from beside her.  
  
She jerked her head up and stared into the blue eyes of the stranger who was staring right back at her. She didn't know who he was, although something about him seemed vaguely familiar. Immediately shifting into the defensive, she remarked, "Well, what can I say? I'm gifted."  
  
The man beside her chuckled softly. "So I hear," he said. "Although my sources tell me that your gifts rest mainly in your piloting skills."  
  
Genna stiffened. His accent was unmistakable. "You're Alderaanian," she breathed.  
  
He nodded. "As are you," he noted, holding out his hand to shake hers. "Tycho Celchu."  
  
Genna took his hand even as she placed his name. "Ah, yes. I understand that you had a lot to do with my placement in Rogue Squadron."  
  
He shook his head. "Not that much, really. Skywalker and Narra had the final say, and they both thought your piloting skills were undeniable. I was merely called in to make sure you were trustworthy."  
  
"And am I?" she challenged.  
  
Celchu smiled wryly. "You're going to learn that among some of the folks here, it's going to take more time than you can give them to prove that you're trustworthy. Sometimes, I'm not sure they trust me yet, coming from a background much like yours, and I wonder if they ever will. Suspicions run deep here."  
  
Genna frowned. "Doesn't the fact that you're from Alderaan lend you any credibility?"  
  
Shrugging his shoulders, Celchu replied, "The word 'Imperial' means more to certain segments of the Rebellion than the word 'Alderaan.' Would you believe that there are those who blame Leia Organa for its destruction because of her position in the Imperial Senate?"  
  
"You can't be serious," Genna said tensely.  
  
Celchu gripped her hand. "The good news is that you wont have to deal with that side very often. You're a part of the Rogues, and we will trust each other to the ends of the known universe and beyond. You'll never find a more diverse assortment of pilots anywhere. Neither will you find any as good."  
  
Genna snorted derisively. "Really?"  
  
Celchu laughed softly and leaned in. "I was a little skeptical myself when I joined. Especially when I saw Skywalker. I'll be the first to admit that he seems as unlikely a leader as there could possibly be. But I'll also be the first to admit that once you're up there under his command, there is no one you'd rather have in his position. I swear to it. He may not seem like much, but talk about gifted."  
  
Genna gave him a hard questioning gaze. Why was he telling her this? Did he suspect that she had doubts about their leader? Did he suspect something much deeper? She couldn't tell by his expression. "I'll take your word for it," she said at length.  
  
Celchu smiled and patted her on the shoulder. "You'll do okay, Cage," he assured her.  
  
Strangely reassured by his presence and his remark, Genna was about to favor him with something close to a smile. However, before she could, Celchu rose from his seat and headed for another chair closer to the front of the room. Glancing down at her chrono, Genna saw that the briefing should start any minute now, and she wondered if Celchu had moved to get a little closer to the information. Figuring she might as well follow suit, Genna stood and began to move toward the front.   
  
*****************  
  
Narra had been right, Luke mused. The drug seemed to be working on the pain, and so far he hadn't felt any signs of sleepiness. If anything, he felt quite the opposite. The drug seemed to be having the effect of a stimulant, and he was aware of the acceleration of his heartbeat as he made his way toward the briefing room.   
  
He was halfway there before he began to notice that something was wrong.  
  
It started as a strange feeling in his chest, which he instinctively dismissed as anxiety about the briefing. He wasn't prepared for the mission, and he wasn't in his best form, owing to the whole situation involving Genna Cage. He knew he was unjustly blaming her for everything that had gone wrong in the past two days, but it was relatively easy to do. Once she had arrived, everything had started to go downhill. He'd embarrassed himself, broken his ankle, and been called up on his strategies by Narra. It was no wonder, then, that he was anxious about everything.  
  
When the corridor began to dance and waver in his vision, he knew it was something more than anxiety. Suddenly feeling a bit shaky and woozy, he put one hand against the wall and tried to breathe deeply. The pounding of his heart seemed to grow louder in his ears, but the strange feeling seeping through him did not lessen. If anything, it increased. Still leaning against the wall, he tried to force back panic. Instinct told him that panicking would probably only make things worse. This was probably nothing. Perhaps some annoying side effect of the drug that both Narra and 2-1B had neglected to mention. Maybe it was just a spell, and if he would just relax it would go away on its own. He closed his eyes and tried to ignore the pounding of his heart in his ears and the strange feeling coursing through his fingertips as his hand made contact with the wall. The wall was cold, and smooth, and it felt good against his skin. He'd never noticed that before. Opening his eyes again, he noted that the corridor seemed to stretch endlessly before his eyes. Pulling his hand away from the wall, he swallowed worriedly. The distance was too great. He'd never make it to the briefing on time. This was really going to upset Narra.  
  
Resolving to simply put one foot in front of the other, he headed in the direction of the briefing room, knowing he'd make it there eventually. Mechanically, he continued walking, on and on down the ever-lengthening corridor on feet that were now starting to turn numb. At least his ankle wasn't hurting. Then again, he really didn't feel anything except this strange cold numbness that was creeping up on him. His head began to feel oddly detached from his body, and he grew less and less aware of his movements. His subconscious must have steered him, for he could not remember the journey to the briefing room. For all he knew, he could have flown there. But suddenly Narra was right in front of him.  
  
"Skywalker, what's wrong?" Narra's panicked voice seemed to be coming from the vacuum of space.  
  
Luke shook his head, disoriented. "I don't know," he replied, trying not to slur his words. The strange sloshing feeling that came from shaking his head struck him as rather amusing, as did the fact that he could barely speak. Everything felt so odd. Like a dream. He giggled. "Ijusdunno," he slurred between giggles, trying desperately to focus on Narra's face and having little success. "Ifeelkinafunny."  
  
"All right, Luke, listen to me," Narra said sternly as his face appeared to engulf Luke's vision.   
  
Oh sith, Luke though. He's angry with me. I knew it. I'm messing up the whole mission. Great job, Wormie. Wormie, that's a funny word. More giggles.  
  
"I want you to get yourself to the medcenter right now!" Narra ordered.  
  
Luke suddenly found himself transfixed by Narra's index finger as it pointed in the direction of the medcenter. Fingers are strange, he thought. Humans point with them, but they're not straight. And it wasn't like Narra could really point out the medcenter with his crooked . . .. The medcenter? Wait, he didn't want to go there. He was feeling truly worried now. Not about his health, but about not being able to what he was supposed to do. He was a leader; he couldn't lead if he was in the medcenter. That was just plain silly. "The briefing," he argued, trying to force himself into sobriety.  
  
"Don't worry about the briefing," the other man retorted. Now Luke was sure he was angry. "Antilles! Get over here!"  
  
Luke turned his head and spotted Wedge jogging over. "Oh, no," Luke groaned. He was being replaced now. By Wedge, of all people.  
  
"Yes, sir," Wedge replied coming to a halt beside Luke. He had moved to fast for Luke's sluggish vision to keep up, and Luke blinked at him as Wedge stared worriedly and said, "Stars, Luke! Are you okay?"  
  
"Antilles," Narra insisted, "I need you to go inside and grab someone to help him to the medcenter."  
  
"I'll take him," Wedge volunteered.  
  
"No, I need you in the briefing with me," Narra said. "We can't scrub the mission, and I'll need your assistance with some modifications. Sithspit, this isn't good."  
  
Luke watched the two men speak, slowly losing interest in the conversation as he fixed his fuzzy gaze on their facial expressions. They really were funny. He leaned back against the wall, watching them, noting that the wall felt almost as good against his back as it had against his hand. It tingled, but he couldn't really feel the surface of the wall. Like he couldn't really feel his body. But he knew it was there.   
  
"What happened to him?" Wedge was asking, his voice drifting on the fringe of Luke's consciousness.  
  
"I'm not sure," Narra replied distantly.  
  
"The medication?"  
  
"It's possible. Luke, you're going straight to the medcenter, okay?"  
  
Luke was confused. Who was speaking? Why did he feel so strange? It was as if he was trapped under sand, but enjoying the feeling of suffocation. Wait, that didn't make any sense. Maybe he was losing his mind. He was definitely losing his body. He couldn't feel his legs anymore. Everything was cold. Like space. The mission! He was going to miss the briefing! "The briefing," he mumbled.  
  
"No, Luke, everything is taken care of. Wedge, go now!"  
  
"I'll handle it," Wedge's voice drifted back.  
  
"You see, we've got everything under control."  
  
He was aware of Narra moving away from him, but he wasn't sure what was happening. He was only aware of the wall against his back and the fuzzy edges that were closing in on his vision.  
  
A face appeared before him. Genna? What was she doing here? She moved closer.   
  
He tried to smile at her. He wanted her to know how pretty she was. To show her how much he liked her. He really did like her. She was different, and pretty, and moving closer to him. Oh, this he really liked.   
  
"Hi, Genna," he drawled through uncooperative lips.  
  
Then everything went black.  
  
*******************  
  
Genna paused on her way to the front of the room as the door opened and several other pilots she didn't recognize as being Rogues entered. These must be the members of Red Flight, she assumed, watching them greet the Rogues loudly and animatedly. So caught up was she in the strange sense of camaraderie she was witnessing between these two groups that she almost bumped into Wedge as he entered the room from a second door she hadn't even been aware of.  
  
He, however, was walking backward as he entered, talking to someone behind him and did not even notice their near collision. "I'll handle it," he was saying quietly.  
  
Genna moved out of the way, but Wedge paused in the doorway, as though waiting for the response of whomever it was he was talking to.  
  
"You see, we've got everything under control," she heard Commander Narra's voice say. That was curious. What was under control? Frowning, she stepped closer, trying to hear what was going on.  
  
At that moment, Wedge turned around. His eyes fell on Genna, and she immediately cursed herself for wanting to eavesdrop. Feeling like a child who has been caught sneaking candy, her eyes darted to Commander Narra, who entered immediately behind Wedge and moved anxiously toward the front of the room. Something was terribly wrong. Glancing back to Wedge, she noted that his expression was neither angry nor reproachful. Her mind was trying to piece together what could possibly be happening to have Narra and Wedge so tense, when suddenly he grabbed her by the arm and pulled her toward the corner.   
  
He glanced around to make sure no one was nearby to overhear him, then he whispered in a low voice, "I need you to do me a favor. Right away."  
  
Genna was confused. She wondered what he could possibly want with her and what would happen if it entailed missing the briefing. She tried to look past him to Commander Narra.  
  
"Don't worry about the briefing," Wedge assured her, as though reading her concern on her features. "I'll fill you in. But this is an emergency and I need to stay here for this."  
  
Still puzzled, but feeling a growing sense of apprehension, Genna asked, "What do you need me to do?"  
  
"I need you to make sure Luke gets to the medcenter right away," he responded.  
  
Genna felt her blood run cold. "What happened?"  
  
Wedge shook his head. "Not sure, but it could be the medication he took."  
  
Trying to fight the inexplicable sense of urgency that had suddenly gripped her, she swallowed. "Why me?"  
  
Wedge gave her an impatient glance before hastily replying, "Because you're the first person I ran into and you also know what happened to him last night, and I figured I wouldn't have to explain everything to you." He gave her a shove. "Now, he's right through that door, so hurry." He indicated the door through which he and Narra had just entered.  
  
Genna nodded and moved swiftly out of the room.  
  
When she saw Luke, her urgency grew to a sense of full-fledged panic that felt like a hard, ice-cold stone in the pit of her stomach. He was leaning against the wall of the corridor, deathly pale and trembling, yet smiling in a strange and giddy way. When he saw her, he favored her with an even bigger smile that she was unable to return. Without giving herself a chance to wonder why she was so terrifyingly concerned for him, she moved to his side.  
  
"Hjna," he slurred a second before he slid down the wall and collapsed in a lifeless heap on the floor.  
  
Genna watched him crumple and her heart stopped. Then, reacting the only way her panicked mind knew how, she crouched down beside him slapped him soundly across the face. Resting on the balls of her feet, she anxiously waited for a sign. When nothing happened, she raised her hand once more, prepared to hit him again, harder this time if necessary. "Luke, snap out of it, ya' hear? Or so help me I'll . . .."  
  
She broke off with a sigh of relief as Luke's eyes fluttered open. It took a moment for his glassy eyes to focus on her, but Genna was simply relieved that he was awake at all. Or as close to it as he was going to get. He was definitely not in any condition to conduct a briefing. She wasn't even sure if he was in any condition to conduct a simple conversation. He seemed to be staring at her in a complete state of bewilderment. She lowered her hand and gripped his shoulders, giving them a gentle shake.  
  
"Come on, Luke, shake it off," she urged, taking a moment to glance around the corridor, frantically scanning for anyone who might be able to help her drag him to the medcenter if needed. The halls were empty. Figured, she groaned inwardly.  
  
"Mrphgm."  
  
Genna looked back at Luke, who was the only person who could have made the strange vocal noise she'd just heard. Sure enough, Luke was looking around in complete disorientation, blinking his eyes and furrowing his brow.  
  
She grabbed his shoulders. "Come on, we have to get you to the medcenter," she urged, trying to haul him up from the floor.  
  
In response, he blinked at her, vague recognition seeping into his dazed expression. There wasn't much else there, though, and Genna found herself struggling to lift the barely conscious Commander to his feet. He wasn't helping much, and she found him about as manageable as a human-sized sack of grain.   
  
"Luke, you've got to help me out here," she growled as she hefted his arm over her shoulder and tried to wedge her other arm beneath his armpit. Once she'd maneuvered him into this position, he somehow managed to drag his feet beneath him so that she wasn't fully supporting his dead weight. His head rested heavily on her shoulder, and she suddenly felt a loose tendril of her hair brush against her neck, blown by the warm breath of the man she was half-carrying.  
  
"Smells nice," he mumbled from her shoulder.  
  
She stiffened, fighting back the urge to slap him again. She hadn't quite expected his first words since regaining consciousness to be what he'd just mumbled into her neck. Her cheeks burned at the very idea. However, he wasn't in full control of his faculties, she reminded herself, dragging him along the hallway. He was liable to say or do anything at this point. Groaning at the continued disconcerting sensation of having a man breath on her neck, she kept moving. The sooner this task was over, the better. For both of them, she realized, as his slight giggle sent tingles down her spine.  
  
"What are you laughing at, Commander?" she snapped, hoping that a little edge might stir him a little more.  
  
"Dizzy," he murmured in response.  
  
Genna bit her lip and frowned. It was growing more and more obvious by the lack of coherency and the increase in dragging as opposed to helping, Luke was going to need serious treatment before he snapped out of this at all. She only hoped she could make it there with him on her own. Her arm was getting tired, and it was getting more and more difficult to keep up the pace she had initially set.  
  
"You need some help there?"  
  
Genna jerked her head upward to meet the speaker of the voice. A young man she couldn't identify stood before her, looking very concerned.  
  
"Uh, yeah," she muttered. "I'm trying to get him to the medcenter."  
  
The man arched an eyebrow. "What happened? He looks drunk."  
  
Genna cracked a smile at that. "Yeah, he does, doesn't he?" she conceded. "Unfortunately, he isn't. This is some kind of weird reaction to something."  
  
The man took hold of Luke's other arm, for which Genna was immediately grateful. "Sounds like a reaction to pseudonyex," he grunted as he took on some of Luke's weight. "Am I right?"  
  
"Could be," Genna replied with a shake of her head. "I have no idea, to tell you the truth."  
  
The man smiled. "Happened to a buddy of mine. He should be fine once we get him to the medcenter," he assured her.  
  
"Well, that's good," Genna said with a sigh of relief. "By the way, I didn't get your name."  
  
"Lieutenant Grey," he replied with a nod of his head. "I work on the flight deck."  
  
Genna grinned at him politely. "Then I'll see you more often, Lieutenant. I'm a member of Rogue Squadron."  
  
Grey nodded in understanding. "And this man would be?"  
  
Unceremoniously using her free hand to lift Luke's head up by his hair, she replied flatly, "Our esteemed Commander."  
  
The look of shock on Grey's face was priceless, and Genna would have paid good money for a holorecording of it. "Commander Skywalker?"  
  
"None other," Genna answered sweetly while fighting the urge to giggle, herself. Having been forced into this uncomfortable and tedious task, she couldn't help but take what small pleasures she could. She felt a twinge of guilt at finding amusement at poor Luke's expense, but it was fleeting. After all, things had been awkward enough between them. Why not add some more elements to the mix?  
  
The Lieutenant started to quicken his pace as his expression turned to one of grave concern. "Well, then we'd better get him to the medcenter before he goes into shock."  
  
"Is that a possibility?" Genna asked, a bit of concern creeping back into her own voice now.  
  
"Well, uh, yeah," Grey answered.  
  
Genna quickened her pace alongside him, but scowled at him from over Luke's head. "So why weren't you this worried before you knew who it was?"  
  
Grey was saved from answering because they'd reached the medcenter. At their entrance, everything became a flurry of motion as Luke was hustled from here to there in a blur of medical droids and technicians. And in the midst of it all, Grey had disappeared. Genna grimaced. "Figures," she sighed before turning around and heading back toward the briefing room. She hoped she hadn't missed too much.  
  
As she passed through the door, she threw one last glance over her shoulder, not sure why she had done it, but somehow reassuring herself that Luke would be okay.  
  
Of course, what did she care? 


	7. Chapter 7

Hearts Are Meant To: Chapter 7  
  
  
Luke awoke sometime later to a thunderous pain in his head, dizzying waves of nausea, and the overall feeling that he'd been on the wildest drinking binge of his life. Funny, he didn't remember going out drinking. In fact, he didn't remember much of anything. Pressing the heels of his hands against his aching eyes, he struggled to remember what had happened to make him feel so horrible. Faint snatches of memory came back to him. There was a mission; he'd talked to Narra about it. He vaguely remembered that. But then there was nothing. The mission! Had something happened? Had he somehow managed to get amnesia? Was there a mission at all? Where was he anyway?  
  
He forced himself to open his eyes, and blinked at surroundings that were all-too familiar. He was in the medcenter. Again.  
  
"Ugh," Luke groaned. "How did I get back here?"  
  
"'Bout time you woke up," a familiar voice spoke from somewhere off to his left.  
  
Luke turned his head and saw Commander Narra leaning in the doorway. He tried to sit up and muster a dignified greeting. But no sooner had he spoken the words, "Commander," than he had to shut his eyes against the ferocious nausea that brought cold beads of sweat to his forehead.  
  
"Relax," he heard Narra say, a slight hint of amusement in his voice that Luke didn't quite find appropriate. "I'm sure you're feeling pretty terrible right now."  
  
Luke swallowed back the sick feeling and muttered, "You said it." When he felt it was safe once more to open his eyes, he glanced up at Narra. "You mind telling me why I'm in here again?"  
  
"You had a severe and unexpected reaction to pseudonyex, the pain killer you took for your ankle," Narra replied, taking a seat. "Never seen anything like it. And you had the medics here pretty baffled as well. They're still running tests to figure the whole thing out."  
  
"I don't remember any of it," Luke said, rubbing his eyes in an attempt to relieve the sick, tired feeling he had.  
  
Now, there was no mistaking the fact that Narra was trying to hide his amusement. The corners of his mouth twitched, and he looked at Luke guiltily. "That may not be such a bad thing, actually."  
  
Luke frowned. "What do you mean?"  
  
Narra shook his head, desperately trying to suppress a laugh. He refused to speak.  
  
Annoyed at his commander's silence and obvious desire to laugh, Luke demanded, "Tell me." What had possibly happened?  
  
Narra raised his eyebrows at Luke. "If you really want to know."  
  
Luke nodded. After all, how bad could it be?  
  
"Picture a teenage girl," Narra began, and Luke immediately regretted wanting to know. It was going to be bad if Narra was starting out with the words, "teenage girl." Narra continued, "Now give her about fifteen shots of Corellian whiskey . . ."  
  
"Oh, stars," Luke moaned, not wanting him to continue. "You're kidding me, right?"  
  
Narra shook his head. "You were giggling."  
  
Luke shut his eyes, the pain in his head combined with absolute mortification. "How many people saw me?" he asked in a small voice.  
  
"Not many," Narra admitted. "Myself, Antilles, Cage, and the medical staff."  
  
At the mention of Genna's name, Luke's eyes flashed open. "Genna saw me?"  
  
"She brought you here," Narra explained. "And from what she said, you were far from cooperative."  
  
Luke went limp against the pillows. If there was ever a moment that Luke Skywalker truly felt like little Wormie from the deserts of Tatooine, this was it. He could have disappeared for all eternity right then and there, and he would have been perfectly content. He was practically begging for some cosmic anomaly to open up in the floor and swallow him so he wouldn't have to experience the sheer humiliation that was now coursing through him. This was too much to handle. He'd experienced more than his fair share in the past two days, and right now his mind was made up as far as who was to blame. If bad luck truly existed in the universe, then Genna Cage was its official vessel. Since her arrival, he'd been injured, humiliated, laid up in a medical bunk during a Rogue mission. And to think, he'd actually found her attractive!  
  
He shuddered at the image of her in his mind, but the thought and action intensified his already existing nausea. Suddenly, with dread and panic, he groped for the basin at the side of his bed. His body went cold and his stomach rolled, and instantly he was heaving into the basin, utterly embarrassed at his own misfortune and weakness once again but thankful he'd managed to grab it in time without risking further humiliation in front of his commander. When it had at last subsided, he brushed a shaky hand across his damp forehead and sighed.  
He felt a towel being placed in his hand and he murmured shakily, "Thanks."  
  
"Don't mention it," a voice that was not Narra's replied.  
  
He glanced up to see Genna standing in the doorway, and immediately his sickness returned. He doubled over the basin once more, retching as his stomach muscles cramped in protest to the abuse. But of course he'd gotten sick again once she'd walked in, he thought dazedly. The woman was cursed!  
  
"I always seem to catch him at his best moments," he heard her remark to Narra.  
  
He wished he could smile sarcastically, but it was difficult in his current situation.  
  
When at last he was finished, he collapsed weakly on the bed and noted that Narra had risen and was talking to Genna.  
  
"I have to admit, the situation hasn't been exactly normal since you've arrived," he was saying. "But, I can assure you, Commander Skywalker here is a fine leader, and one of the best pilots I've ever seen."  
  
Luke was too weak to smile at his comment, but he managed a slight raise of the corners of his mouth to show Narra that his statement was well appreciated.  
  
Narra smiled back at him. "I have to go meet with Alliance command, Luke. But there's a meeting tomorrow, and I'll fill you in on everything."  
  
Luke nodded and watched him leave. Then glancing at Genna, he was surprised to see her sit down on the chair that Narra had just vacated. Why was she hanging around? Couldn't she see she was part of the problem? For crying out loud, she was making him physically ill!  
  
"So," she breathed, trying to sound casual. "I'd ask you how you're feeling, but I think I already know the answer." She grinned and looked at him as though waiting for him to smile at her remark. When he didn't, she shifted, and Luke had the brief satisfaction of seeing her momentarily thrown off balance. "The mission went well though."  
  
Leave it to her to bring that up. He scowled. "Why are you here?" he asked weakly.  
  
Her smile faded. "The boys and I drew lots to see which one of us would come down to check on you."  
  
He tried to make his voice sharp as he replied, "And you lost." It came out with a soft tremble instead. He cursed himself inwardly.  
  
Apparently, Genna had noticed his intent anyway. "You know, I did manage to drag your butt all the way down here, so the least you could do is throw me a little courtesy!"  
  
"No offense," Luke countered, "but ever since you've arrived, everything has come crashing down into a burning heap of smoldering ash. Everything I have worked so hard to achieve is now nothing."  
  
"And how is that?" she snapped back.  
  
He sighed. "I have struggled for two years to earn the respect of the members of my squadron. Don't you get it? I'm a nobody from a backwater planet. I'm a farmer. For months, people thought I just got lucky on that shot back at Yavin! I had to work extra hard to prove that it wasn't luck, that I deserved to be respected. I had to prove that I was worthy of this stupid hero status that had been suddenly thrust upon me without me ever wanting it, or suffer the humiliation of being considered a hack! And ever since you showed up, nothing-Nothing! -has gone right! I've ended up in this very bed twice! I've been humiliated beyond the limits of tolerance! So don't take it personally, but I really want you to leave."  
  
Genna's eyes narrowed at him. "And just what do you mean? Leave the room, or leave the Rebellion?"  
  
Luke was surprised by the amount of hostility he found within himself directed toward this woman. Had he really found her that attractive two days ago? "The second, preferably," he replied. "But I'll settle for the first at this moment."  
  
Genna blanched, then left in a blur of motion.   
  
Luke couldn't really tell, but he thought he saw tears in her eyes as she left. Remorse hit him unexpectedly then. Had he really been so cruel to her? Did she really deserve it?  
  
The pain in his head made concentration difficult, and he resolved to settle the issue when he was fully recovered. Closing his eyes, he drifted into an uneasy sleep.  
  
******************   
  
Wedge stormed into the room he shared with the man he often considered his friend, although he was decidedly furious with that man at the moment.  
  
"Luke, you are so dead!" he cried as his eyes fixed upon the figure stretched out across the bottom bunk.  
  
"So I've been frequently told," Luke tonelessly replied.  
  
"How could you have let Genna transfer to Green Flight?" Wedge asked, both angered at the situation as well as Luke's apparent lack of concern.  
  
Luke's reply didn't help much. "Easy."  
  
In response to Luke's monosyllabic response, Wedge advanced, seething at the attitude being displayed. "Are you insane? She's one of the best pilots the Rebellion's got! And you're letting her go to Green Flight?"  
  
"They could use her," Luke answered with a shrug. "We're not as desperate."  
  
Wedge just stood there a moment, not sure whether to shout at him or deck him. The part of his mind that remembered that Luke was his superior officer urged him to go with the former. "Luke, I think you've really lost it this time! You weren't there! You didn't see her go against those Imps! She was a flying goddess up there!"  
  
"Sorry I missed it," Luke remarked sarcastically.  
  
"Luke," Wedge hissed, taking another step toward him, "you don't want to mess with a Corellian who is just itching to hit you right now."  
  
At that, Luke rose, and stared Wedge in the eye. "Go for it! Add just another strike against Luke Skywalker! Hell, I'm getting used to it!"  
  
Wedge was momentarily taken aback by Luke's sudden outburst. "What's gotten into you?"  
  
Luke exhaled in a huff and flopped facedown on the bunk. "Nothing!" he growled into the pillow. "Cage is gone. Just let it be."  
  
"No, I will not let it be," Wedge countered, his temper slightly lessened by his confusion at Luke's behavior. Luke had always been solid, someone they could all count on. He was funny when the guys were tired and upset, he offered himself up as comic relief when things got too serious, and he was serious and commanding when things got out of control. Never had Wedge seen him like this, a roiling pot of barely contained emotion that shifted from one moment to the next. "Luke, I need to know what's going on. As your friend, and as your second in command here."  
  
Luke pulled his face out of the pillow and looked up at him. "Cage and I can't work together. Okay?"  
  
Wedge inhaled sharply as realization hit him. "You like her."  
  
"No, I do not like her!" Luke shouted indignantly. "She's been the finger of doom for me since she got here! Every time we end up in the same room together, something goes wrong. And then she knows just what to do or say to make everything worse than it already is."  
  
Wedge had to bite back a smile at Luke's words. "Luke, you do, of course, remember what you told me when I asked you if you still had a thing for the Princess, right?"  
  
Luke put his face back in the pillow, groaning, "I'm not in the mood for this, Antilles!"  
  
"You told me," Wedge continued, "that you thought she was more interested in Han. Am I right?"  
  
"What are you getting at?" Luke's muffled voice asked.  
  
"How did you know?" Wedge pressed.  
  
"Know what?"  
  
"That she was more interested in Han than you."  
  
Luke pulled his face out of the pillow again and groaned. "I may be from Tatooine, but I'm not stupid! It's obvious that I'm just a friend, and that with Han there are . . .. well, sparks."  
  
Wedge looked at him sharply. "Because they fight all the time."  
  
The other propped himself up on his elbow and glared back at Wedge. "Don't even think this is the same thing! I don't like her!"  
  
Luke was a study in denial, Wedge thought to himself. Come to think of it, it was probably a good thing Genna had transferred to Green Flight. He didn't know what would happen if she had to fly under Luke's command, given the circumstances. He shrugged at Luke and said, "Whatever you say, Boss. But I suggest you get a better story and pull yourself together. 'Cause the other guys are upset about the whole situation, too, and they're gonna be asking."  
  
He turned and headed out of the room without a backward glance, knowing he'd just left Luke to sort out a whole lot for himself. Good, he laughed. He's supposed to be a leader, so thinking would be good for him.  
  
He just wondered what the outcome would be. 


	8. Chapter 8

Hearts Are Meant To: Chapter 8  
  
Wedge had been right about the guys not being happy. In fact, they'd been anything but. For the past week they'd treated Luke with a cold detachment. Luke gathered that a lot of their resentment came from the speculation that Luke and Genna had had some sort of lover's quarrel, and the Rogues were upset that they no longer had much of a shot at her. Ridiculous as that was, Luke had to laugh at the thought, even as the Rogues were continuing to treat him distantly. In addition, Commander Narra had been scarce lately, leaving Luke to puzzle over what he'd gotten himself involved in that didn't involve the Rogues. But Luke didn't really have time to worry about any of these things at the moment. Those issues would just have to wait for the time being. Right now, there were more serious matters to deal with.  
  
The squadrons had met in the large staffing room of the Mon Calamari cruiser, Home One. Seated among the rest of the pilots, Luke looked around at the assembled group. There were many familiar faces, some he even recognized from Yavin. There were also many new faces he didn't recognize. And then of course, there were the faces of those he would never see again. It was a very sobering thought.  
  
"We're establishing a second base on Derra IV," General Rieekan began. "There's a group already there that has managed to gain control of two manufacturing plants and has also secured engineers to help build and reconstruct snubfighters for our use against the Imperial TIEs."  
  
"'Bout time!" someone from the back of the room called out.  
  
Luke had to smile. They were really running short on spacecraft, and he shared the enthusiasm. Several of the other pilots in the room chuckled as well.  
  
Rieekan smiled and nodded. "Yes, I understand the situation has been very desperate. And I was sure this news would be welcomed."  
  
Someone else called out from the back of the room, "What about the talks of moving the base to the Hoth system?"  
  
Luke shuddered involuntarily at the mention of the icy planet that Han and Leia were currently scouting. He looked to Rieekan, hoping against hope that the talks hadn't gone any further.  
  
Rieekan caught Luke's eye and winked. Luke felt his cheeks grow warm in embarrassment at the gesture, even as Rieekan continued, "Right now, they're just talks. Nothing more. We have personnel checking it out now, but there's nothing more I can tell you about those plans. However, the Derra IV initiative does concern all of you. So I suggest you turn your full attention to it."  
  
Luke perked up at this.  
  
"We have operatives stationed on the planet Vi'tra, and they have gained access to the materials we need to get this operation underway," Rieekan continued. "But as you know, Vi'tra is an Imperial world, and it is heavily defended. Getting the supplies out will not be easy. Nor will protecting them once they are off of the planet. However, they are vital, both to Derra IV, and to our shipyards on Mon Calamari. We'll need reinforcement ships if we are to successfully win this war."  
  
Luke nodded gravely.  
  
General Rieekan then stepped aside and ushered Commander Narra forward.  
  
Narra surveyed the assembly before his eyes rested on Luke, and he smiled. "Before we go into the specific assignments for each Flight group, I want to take a moment to introduce all of you to the newest team we've assembled. Well, actually, I have assembled, and I will be leading it as well."  
  
Luke blinked his eyes in shock. He hadn't heard anything about this.  
  
Narra continued, "It has been brought to my attention that many of the flight teams, the Rogues especially, have been under quite a bit of a strain. Now, of course, we all know they'll deny it; after all, the word around is that there's a running competition over the number of kills, and the Rogues want to keep their lead. But at the same time, I do not want any of my valuable pilots in any of the flight teams to find themselves flying to the point of exhaustion. We all know how fatal that can be. Therefore, I've managed to dig up a few recruits as well as some of our newer pilots, and I've put together our brand new Renegade Flight."  
  
He gestured with his arm toward a group of pilots sitting on one end of the room, and Luke followed with his eyes. The new team then stood, to the muted applause and cheers of the rest of the pilots. Luke realized the same half-hearted welcome had been given to the Rogues when they'd been introduced a year ago. It was amazing how reluctant folks were to change the status quo. Especially in a group of rebels who were fighting to do just that! Resolved to show his support in spite of the less-than-enthusiastic attitude of the rest of the room, Luke applauded loudly. Until his eyes fell on one of the Renegade pilots.  
  
It was Genna.  
  
If she saw him, she didn't show it in any way. She smiled politely at the crowd before taking her seat once more and directing her attention back to Commander Narra. Luke's mind was awhirl. He truly did not know what to make of the situation. Not only had he not been told about this plan of Narra's, but also he'd not been told about Cage's true whereabouts. Had she even gone to Green Flight? Or was that just the story?  
  
Luke forced his attention back to Narra, trying to fight back the odd sense of betrayal he was feeling at this turn of events. Regardless of what had happened, he was still Rogue Leader, and it was still his job to make sure his pilots did what they were supposed to and came back alive to tell the story. Nothing was going to change that.  
  
He glanced to Wedge, who sat beside him, and he saw shocked mixed with doubt in the other man's features. It wasn't reassuring.  
  
*****************  
  
When the briefing came to a close, Genna scanned the room to gauge the reactions of the other pilots to the new Renegade Flight. The initial greeting of rather dull applause had not been lost on her or the other Renegades. Nor had the overtly obvious show by Skywalker. Had his applause been meant to mock or to openly welcome? She hadn't been able to tell. However, she had noticed the stiff posture and stoic demeanor he'd presented throughout the rest of the briefing.  
  
As she rose from her seat, her eyes shifted toward him. Most of the other pilots were on their way out, as she was. He, however, remained seated, staring at Commander Narra as the older man spoke with General Rieekan. Continuing her progress toward the door, she stole glances toward him, wondering when he would get up to leave or at least approach Narra. He seemed strangely rooted to the spot, a frozen image of a man who betrayed nothing of his thoughts or feelings at this moment. Was he happy, hurt, angered, abandoned, frustrated, or furious? It was difficult to tell. He might as well have been carved in stone.   
  
Realizing she wasn't going to learn anything from observing him, and wondering why she was bothering to look in the first place, she headed out the door. She wasn't expecting the person who was standing by the door waiting for her.  
  
"From a Rogue to a Renegade, eh?" Tycho Celchu asked, his tone revealing nothing of his emotion. He and Luke must be taking lessons at the same school, she mused.  
  
She folded her arms across her chest. "Is there a problem?"  
  
He shook his fair head slightly. "Of course not," he answered. "Just wondering how this all came about."  
  
She narrowed her eyes. "Does Narra have to tell you everything?"  
  
"No," he conceded. "But Luke and Wedge usually do, and neither of them had a clue about this." He took a step toward her, closing the distance between them and trying to intimidate her. "In fact, it wasn't until you left Rogue Flight that Narra started getting all secretive. So I'm betting you had something to do with it."  
  
In response to his baiting words, she lifted her chin. "Look, I wanted to be a Rogue. It just didn't work out that way, though. Can I help it if Narra saw opportunity in my decision to transfer?"  
  
"What I want to know is," Celchu continued, refusing to back down, "who gave them the idea that we were worn out?"  
  
She shook her head with a snort. "Please. It didn't take a genius to see that your team has the fewest numbers while keeping a nearly constant flight schedule. The day I joined you guys, you were recovering from a nearly incessant string of missions. And wasn't it last month when several of your members began coming down with colds and various other illnesses, brought on by fatigue?"  
  
Genna was surprised to see a dark grin spread across Celchu's face as he leaned against the wall. "You're a crafty one, aren't you, Cage?" he intoned.  
  
Genna arched her brows in confusion.  
  
"You used your all-night discussion with Skywalker to your advantage," he continued quietly. "Taking casual information he'd told you in confidence, and using it to get yourself a squadron when things didn't work out between you two. Pretty clever."  
  
Genna swallowed, tensing. Put that way, it did sound rather manipulative. And bitter. Not to mention the fact that it seemed very close to petty revenge. But what did it matter? Skywalker had said he didn't want her flying with him. Was she supposed to simply make do in one of the other squadrons? Her piloting skills defined her whole existence. If she wasn't one of the best, then she was nothing. Surely Celchu had to understand that.  
  
"I did what I had to do to keep flying my best," she bit out at last, her jaw muscles tight with emotion. "I'm a pilot. You of all people should understand that."  
  
"I understand," Celchu snapped back. "But I also understand that you are trying to undermine those who have been here longer and who have worked harder at this than you have."  
  
Raising her finger to point it in his face, she struggled to keep her voice from yelling. "No one has worked harder than I have! Do you hear me? I did not spend years training and fighting and struggling every day to be accepted just to have you tell me I haven't worked! So I may not have been a Rebel all this time, but I am now! And I want the Empire to pay! And I want to be there when it happens! And it wasn't going to happen the way I wanted it to if I wasn't in the best damn team you sorry Rebels have to offer!"  
  
"You think the Renegades are going to be the best?" he retorted incredulously.  
  
"You just watch us, Rogue." She spat out the last word as though it were the vilest of insults and spun on her heel. Celchu would probably report everything she had just said to Skywalker and Antilles and whoever else he could tell, but she didn't care.  
  
They'd see. The Renegades would be the best. She would be the best.  
  
She had to be. 


	9. Chapter 9

Hearts Are Meant To: Chapter 9  
  
  
  
Luke stared through the forward viewport of the Z-95 Headhunter's cockpit, wishing for the millionth time that he was on board his own X-wing. At least his X-wing had hyperdrive. He hated the fact that he and the other Rogues had to ride in the hangar bay of the Rebel Assault Cruiser, he hated the fact that the Rogues would have to maneuver their way back to the bay before they could get out of the system, and he hated the fact that they were essentially performing a bombing run. In fact, he hated just about everything to do with this mission.  
  
He'd barely said two words to Narra after the briefing, although he'd wanted to. He'd wanted to express the feelings of betrayal, hurt, and anger that the establishment of Renegade Flight had caused. He'd wanted to ask him why there had been no prior notification of the new group. He'd wanted to ask him why they were getting the fun task of flying cover while Luke and the Rogues had to bomb the surface of the planet in order for the transport ship to take off. They were the distraction, while the Renegades were the defenders. When had the Rogues become so useless?  
  
Taking a deep breath, he tried to channel all of his anger and hostility through the inhalation and then release it outward with his exhalation. Blinking his eyes at the interior of the hangar bay, he realized it hadn't worked.  
  
"Tense, Boss?" Wedge's voice crackled over the comm.  
  
Luke let his lips twitch upward in a smile that did not reflect how he truly felt. His sigh must have carried over the comm. "I'd be lying if I said I was happy about this."  
  
"At least it should be an easy run," Janson piped in.  
  
Luke shuddered. Maybe for the other Rogues, but not for him. The whole idea of a bombing run turned his stomach. This was different than chasing a single moving target and then vaping it before it could get a shot off at you. In the past month, he'd gotten better at being able to handle the Force repercussions of that particular task. He still felt shaken at the end of a mission, as though he'd been stained by the blood of those he'd slain in battle; and he still wished more than anything that he could simply turn the Force off or find some way to block that particular effect during a fight. However, until he learned how to control the Force better-if he learned how to control the Force better-he'd learned how to prepare himself mentally for the impact of his enemies' deaths. But a bombing run?  
  
Ben had said that the destruction of Alderaan had felt like millions of voices crying out. Luke recalled how shaken and pale Ben had looked when it happened. He also recalled his own nightmares in the aftermath of Yavin. The overpowering sense of death had come as quite a shock to him, and the dreams had really rattled him at first. He had no intention of going through that again.  
  
And yet, here he was. Bombing an Imperial military compound in order to get supplies-much needed supplies-to the Alliance.  
  
He'd much rather be flying cover like the Renegades.  
  
"Rogue Leader," Narra's voice filtered through Luke's headset. "Do you copy?"  
  
"I copy, Renegade Leader," Luke responded mechanically.  
  
"We're moving into position now. Get ready."  
  
Luke nodded to himself. "Copy." To the Rogues he said, "This is it, boys." He powered up his own Z-95, and the surrounding whine of engines told him the other Rogues had done the same.  
  
"Rogue Two ready."  
  
"Rogue Six ready."  
  
"Rogue Three ready."  
  
"Rogue Nine ready."  
  
"Rogue Seven Ready."  
  
"Rogue Four Ready."  
  
Luke listened as they called in, the voices distant beneath the drumming in his ears. As he watched the hangar bay doors open, he forced his mind to focus on the task at hand. Brushing all negative thoughts aside, he took a deep cleansing breath. "Okay, Rogues," he called to them. "Follow me. Approach vector Sigma."  
  
With that, he pulled his ship out of the bay and headed for the atmosphere of the planet Vi'tra before them. Checking his scopes, he saw that the rest of the Rogues were right behind him.  
  
"Entering Vi'tra's atmosphere," he said into his comm. "Double power to front deflectors."  
  
"Copy, Rogue Leader," Zev quickly replied.  
  
Instantly, Luke felt the shift from space flight to atmospheric flight. He smiled in spite of himself. The feeling was comfortingly familiar. After all, he'd grown up flying like this, through the twists and turns of Beggar's Canyon. Images of Biggs Darklighter came unexpectedly to mind.  
  
"Biggs would have loved this!" hollered Rogue Four.  
  
Luke had to laugh. It was as though Hobbie had read his mind. His comment wasn't surprising, however, since Hobbie and Biggs had been on board the Rand Ecliptic together. "True, Four," he replied.  
  
"Uh-oh, Luke," Dack cried. "Heads up. I just detected two ion cannon blasts."  
  
Luke checked his scopes. The kid was right. "Okay, stay sharp. They know we're here!"  
  
"That was quick!" exclaimed Zev.  
  
"Keep close and stay on this vector," Luke instructed. "Our best bet is to hit 'em fast and get the hell out of here before they can launch an all-out defensive strike."  
  
"I'm with ya', Boss," Wedge agreed.  
  
"Where's the transport?" Six immediately asked.  
  
Luke double-checked his readouts. "It's supposed to be at Point-Zero-Two-Seven," he answered, "But we're too far away for a visual confirmation."  
  
Cannon fire erupted around them and Luke's ship bucked. Momentarily panicked, he glanced out of the cockpit, and he saw the laser mounts that were firing away at them.  
  
"I hope we spot it soon, Luke," Tycho remarked, "because this welcoming party is a little too hot for me."  
  
Luke swallowed. It looked this was going to be a bit more difficult than he'd initially feared. "Time to earn our pay, Rogues!"  
  
**********************  
  
From her seat in the cockpit of her X-wing, Genna watched and listened to the fight going on in the atmosphere of the planet below. Brilliant flashes of light seemed to punctuate the words of the pilots as they frantically sought the transport.  
  
She heard one of the Rogues cry, "Luke, we've got about twenty skips coming in!"  
  
Genna felt her blood run cold. Twenty skipray blastboats meant that the Empire was more prepared for their attack then they had bargained for. How much did the Imps already know?  
  
"I see 'em," Skywalker shouted back. "Rogues Two and Seven , I want you to break off and head north. See if you can get a few to follow you. Rogues Three and Four, stay with me. Six, show me some of that fancy flyin'!"  
  
"Will do, Boss," Celchu's voice rang out.  
  
"Renegades," Narra's voice cried over the comm, bringing Genna's attention back to her own duties. "We've got trouble of our own. Two squadrons of TIEs headed this way!"  
  
"Someone told 'em we were comin'!" she heard Renegade Four holler in alarm. "No way they could have reacted this fast!"  
  
Genna had to agree with him. "Renegade Six," Genna spoke into her comm, "stay on my wing. Let's see what kind of damage we can do."  
  
"I hear ya', Two," he replied.  
  
Immediately she broke hard left and brought her ship around at an angle to face her opponents. Peripherally aware that Six was copying her movements, she did a quick assessment. Having served in the Imperial Navy, she knew their maneuvers as well as their weaknesses. If she could just keep ahead of them, it wouldn't matter that the Renegades were outnumbered. She'd be turning those TIEs into spacedust.  
  
"Here they come," someone shouted.  
  
Sure enough, they were breaking into various attack patterns and moving in on them. Within seconds, a full-blown firefight was underway.  
  
"Stang! I've got one on my tail!" cried Seven.  
  
"Pull hard right," Genna instructed as she moved in on two TIEs. She noted that Seven did as instructed, and Genna immediately pulled in behind the TIE as it swerved to maneuver back into attack range. The standard flight path was anticipated, and a second later, the TIE was no more.  
  
"Thanks, Two," Seven called back.  
  
"They're all over us!" Three screamed.  
  
"How long 'til the Rogues get that transport?" Genna bit through clenched teeth as she tried to bring her ship around to help Three. Another TIE was blasted into oblivion.  
  
"Rogue Leader, what's your status?" Narra asked.  
  
Skywalker's strained voice broke through, replying, "We've got the transport in our sights, but these skips are more trouble than we bargained for."  
  
"They're attacking the transport!" one of the Rogues cried out.  
  
Skywalker swore. "They know what we're after!"  
  
Another Rogue screamed, "Luke, I can't shake this guy!"  
  
Genna immediately heard a Renegade echo the same plight, "Someone get this TIE off me!"  
  
She moved to help, but it was too late. In a brilliant flash of light and dust, Renegade Five was gone. She brought her ship around and immediately sought retribution for their loss. The TIE that got Five was hit first, followed by one that moved in to Genna's flight path to get off a shot.  
  
"We can't keep this up much longer," she growled into her comm.  
  
Rogue Leader broke in. "The transport is away! She's all yours Renegades!"  
  
Narra responded, "There are too many TIEs up here! We can't cover the transport."  
  
"Rogues, how much help can we give 'em?" Rogue Leader called to his group.  
  
Rogue Two replied, "These skips just won't leave us alone! I don't know how we're even gonna get back to the cruiser!"  
  
"Renegades," Skywalker said, "we'll head up there as soon as we're clear."  
  
Genna glanced back down at the planet's surface, angry and disappointed as she chased another TIE. "Well, don't do us any favors, Rogues."  
  
She immediately regretted her words, as the frantic calls from one of the Rogues below suddenly ended in a burst of static. She swallowed hard, wondering whom it had been.  
  
"Nine's gone, Boss," Wedge grimly reported.  
  
Genna could hear the strain in Luke's voice as he said, "Okay, boys. Form up. Keep tight, follow my lead, and let's plow straight through. We're gonna take out as many of 'em as we can."  
  
"Luke, that's crazy!" Dack cried.  
  
Genna had to agree. Bringing her ship around, she maneuvered out of the line of fire of two more Imps, all the while keeping one ear trained on the Rogues.  
  
Wedge was the one who rushed to the defense. "We're boxed in, Seven! You have any better suggestions?"  
  
"Okay, I'm with you," Dack conceded.   
  
"Let's go," Rogue Leader ordered. "As soon as we break through, keep those guns firing. Let's see how many TIEs we can nail as well!"  
  
As Genna blasted yet another Imp, she suddenly realized what Tycho had meant about Skywalker. Sure, Luke's plan was downright insane, but they were out of options, and his men still had a mission to accomplish. She also realized that all of the rumors about the Rogues had been true. They were, without a doubt, the craziest bunch of pilots she'd ever met.  
  
Now, she fervently hoped they survived.  
  
*****************  
  
Luke Skywalker stared out the canopy window, preparing himself for the fight ahead. The death of Rogue Nine had been hard enough to deal with. Kal had been a great pilot, and a good man. Now, however, there was the possibility that more of the Rogues would be lost in this mission. Knowing that the only chance he had at keeping himself and his men alive would be to open himself to the Force, he braced himself and lowered the mental "barriers" he had constructed. He didn't know what else to call them, and he'd never been sure how he'd learned to do this, or whether it was a skill he was even supposed to use. Somewhere during the past few months, however, he'd figured out that he could prepare himself to handle the deaths that occurred in battle by refocusing his brain to shield himself from being overwhelmed by the sensations. He couldn't block them out, but the mental preparations he took made them less emotionally taxing during the fight.  
  
Now, however, he knew that he would have to erase all of those shields and open himself up completely if the Rogues were to survive.  
  
"Help me, Ben," he murmured under his breath. His former teacher had guided him once, during the battle of Yavin. He'd felt his presence as surely as though the old man had been in the ship with him. He longed for that guidance again. Aloud, he said, "Ready, Rogues?"  
  
"Right with you, Boss," Hobbie replied.  
  
Luke took another deep breath. "Now remember," he instructed, "as soon as we're through, head for those TIEs and free up the Renegades!"  
  
"Copy," Three responded.  
  
Closing his eyes, he focused on feeling the Force. "Stretch out with your feelings," Ben had told him. "Let go." He tried.  
  
Immediately, blasts erupted around him as the skiprays closed in. Startled, Luke was forced onto the defensive, firing furiously as he and the Rogues attempted to make a run for it. "We're not going to make it," he thought to himself.  
  
Firing instinctively, his emotions a maelstrom, he didn't notice anything but the feeling of his hands on the flight stick and his thumb on the trigger. He didn't notice the almost imperceptible corrections he made in his flight path as his ship swept through the melee without even a scorch mark. And he didn't notice the precision of his shots. He didn't notice these things, yet he wasn't even aware of his failure to notice.   
  
Suddenly, he was clear. His ship shook slightly as it pushed outward through the upper atmosphere and into space. It seemed to have taken no time at all to blast their way through, he thought absently. Shifting his focus to the TIEs that appeared in front of him and continuing to fire, he was barely aware of saying, "All Rogues, report your status." He listened half-consciously as, one by one, each Rogue called in.   
  
Wedge reported in last, "Rogue Two here! I'll be damned! We all made it!"  
  
Luke didn't have a chance to feel relieved, for at that moment, the Rogues were immediately swarmed by Imps. Out of the frying pan and into the fire, the Rogues moved into the fight. Reacting instinctively, Luke was barely conscious of anything but the task at hand. His ship banked and rolled, his thumb fired shots, and his awareness shifted from target to target as each presented itself. He was only vaguely conscious of issuing commands, responding to calls, and communicating with Renegade Flight, all of which he would not be able to recall later with any clarity. In what felt like moments, it was all over.  
  
"I don't believe it!" Rogue Three gleefully cheered. "The rest of 'em are backing off."  
  
"They know better than to mess with us," Five crowed.   
  
Wedge laughed. "I think a bunch of 'em got scared by Madman Skywalker!"  
  
"Yeah, Luke," Six commented, "what was that?"  
  
Luke blinked, suddenly trembling all over from exertion as he came back into full awareness. "Huh?"  
  
"Impressive flying, Rogue Leader," Commander Narra commented through Luke's headset.  
  
Luke involuntarily shuddered, trying to piece together what had just happened. The battle was a blur. It was over before he'd really felt it had started. Drenched in sweat, he knew he'd fought through it, but he felt oddly detached from what had happened. It was as though his subconscious had simply taken over, guided by something he couldn't explain. The Force? It had to be. He couldn't recall having experienced it to this extent, however. Not even at Yavin had he given himself completely to the strange power Ben had awakened in him. He wasn't sure what to make of it.  
  
He swallowed, about to reply to Narra, when something caught his eye. An X-wing was shaking violently, its pilot apparently trying to gain control with a busted stabilizer. He checked the markings. "Renegade Two, what's the problem with your stabilizer?"  
  
He froze when the voice of none other than Genna Cage replied, "It's gone, that's the problem. Fried, along with my Astromech."  
  
He swallowed hard. That wasn't good. "What about the rest of your systems?"  
  
"Everything else checks out," she answered tensely, "but I can't make it to hyperspace."  
  
Narra broke in, "Rogue Leader, is there room on the cruiser for one more ship? She may have to dock with you."  
  
Luke suppressed a grimace, both at the idea of riding back with Cage and at being reminded of the loss of Kal. "Yeah, we've got room."  
  
"Renegade Two," Narra ordered, "return to base with the Rogues. Renegade Flight, prepare for lightspeed on my mark."  
  
As the Renegades prepared to jump to the rendezvous point, Luke turned his attention back to Cage's damaged ship. "Renegade Two, shut down and let her drift. We'll have the cruiser bring you in via tractor beam."  
  
"Copy, Rogue Leader," she responded, and he could hear the irritation in her voice. He wasn't surprised, after all that had transpired recently. Now, to be rescued by the squadron she'd left was probably adding insult to injury.   
  
Narra came through the comm again. "Rogue group, thanks for the assist. May the Force be with you."  
  
"And with you, Renegades," Luke responded seconds before the transport and the Renegades jumped to lightspeed. He then called out to the Rogues, "Okay guys, let's get on board and out of here before those Imps have a chance to regroup."  
  
"We hear ya', Boss," Wedge agreed.  
  
Moving toward the cruiser, he hoped it was only Genna Cage and not her bad luck that was following him in. 


	10. Chapter 10

Hearts Are Meant To: Chapter 10  
  
  
Popping the canopy of her X-wing, Genna Cage removed her flight helmet and surveyed the hangar with a look of disgust. She didn't like being separated from her squadron, even if she hadn't actually been a part of that squadron for very long. She also didn't like having to ride back to base with the group that had dismissed her so easily. Or more accurately, the man who had dismissed her so easily. She hated to admit, though, that he was probably the person most responsible for saving her life back there.   
  
In a moment of confusion, she'd somehow managed to wind up right in between two TIEs, both of them firing away madly. She'd had time to maneuver out of the way of only one of them, and a blast from the second had caught her Astromech square on its little domed head. The electronic squeal it emitted as it "died" was immediately followed by an even more distressing squeal from her ship. A second blast caught her stabilizer and she had been rocketing out of control when, out of nowhere, one of the Rogue's headhunters raced overhead and took out both TIEs in rapid succession. As the ship came around again, she noted the markings. Rogue Leader.  
  
Grimacing, she realized that if it hadn't been for the Rogues, they'd probably all be dead.  
  
She pulled herself out of the ship and attempted to climb down the side. Her legs, however, were not cooperative, and she ended up coming to a shaky landing on the hangar floor. Her struggle to pilot her damaged craft had apparently taken more out of her than she'd initially thought, and she brushed a trembling hand over a forehead beaded in cold sweat. With the abrupt drop in adrenaline, the effects of her experiences were evident. The damage to her craft had left her badly shaken, and she struggled to get to her feet against a mounting headache and growing nausea.  
  
"You okay?" a voice asked from behind her.  
  
She spun too quickly, and the hangar lurched beneath her unsteady feet. A hand reached out to grab her arm as she focused on the speaker of the question. She nodded to the concerned face of Tycho Celchu. "A little scrambled, but otherwise I'm fine."  
  
Keeping a hand on her arm, he led her away from her craft and toward a stack of crates near the wall of the hangar. Disgusted with herself, she realized that she was actually quite thankful for his help, as her legs threatened to buckle several times en route. By the time she sank down on the nearest crate, she was also thankful for the fact that no one ever seemed able to remove all the crates from any hangar she'd ever been in. Dropping her head to her hands, she concentrated on taking several deep breaths to dispel the aftereffects of her voyage. After all, the last thing she wanted to do was to appear weak before-  
  
"How is she?"  
  
Tired and trembling with fatigue as it was, there was no mistaking that voice. She refused to lift her head, not wanting to face the concerned gaze of Luke Skywalker in her current condition.  
  
"Shaken up pretty badly, but I think she'll be okay," Tycho replied.  
  
There was a pause before Skywalker spoke again. "Her stabilizer was totally gone. Better have her checked for a concussion, just in case."  
  
At that, she rolled her eyes and lifted her head for a moment, intending to give him an "Oh, please," expression. One look at his features changed her mind.  
  
She expected to see the typical farm boy concern she'd seen in him the night she'd spent in his room. Instead, his face was pale and grim. It was the face of a man who'd just lost a friend in combat. It was the face of a man besieged by guilt over his inability to protect every man in his command. It was the face of a man she now realized she only superficially knew. And she was seeing a whole different side to him now.  
  
His eyes did a quick once-over of her before they returned to Tycho. "I have to report to the bridge," Skywalker told him, a profound weariness punctuating his words. "We'll meet in Common Room 74-B in one hour," he added. "Spread the word."  
  
Tycho merely nodded at him, and he and Genna both watched as Luke strode purposefully out of the hangar.  
  
"Must be tough," Tycho sighed beside her.  
  
Genna looked at him and nodded in agreement. "It's never easy to lose someone. Especially when you're in command."  
  
Tycho sat down on the crate next to her and shook his head, his shoulders revealing an almost imperceptible shudder as he did so. "Probably felt his death, too." He paused, giving Genna a chance to process his words. "Tried to explain it to me once, but I can't even begin to imagine what it must be like," he added.  
  
Stiffening, Genna gave Tycho a hard stare. "What do you mean?"  
  
Casting a glance in the direction Luke had just gone, he turned back to her. "He's Force-sensitive," he explained. "Probably would have been a Jedi if there were any left."  
  
She felt her body go cold at his words, even as her heart thudded in her chest. Her eyes were fixed on the door Skywalker had exited through, and her mouth was dry. That man, that man who had saved her life, who had caused her departure from Rogue Squadron, who had stirred feelings in her at their first meeting was Force-sensitive? "Like Vader?" she breathed through dry lips. He'd never mentioned it before.  
  
Tycho's responding laugh was almost mocking. "Luke?" he cried incredulously. "Not a chance. He's probably got as much in common with Vader as I do with a Hutt. Like I said, the guy probably would have been one of those Jedi Knights my dad used to talk about. All robes and lightsabers, and protecting peace and justice. It's a shame they've all been wiped out."  
  
Unable to move, respond, or even swallow, Genna found it impossible to share his opinion. She'd stood in a unit and watched as her commander had been choked to death by Vader, who stood ten feet away. She remembered watching those lips silently pleading, even as his windpipe snapped. Vader had terrified her, terrified her unit. They knew the penalty of displeasing him. Knowing that Luke had the same power-  
  
"He's got a lightsaber, too," Tycho went on, not noticing her distress. "So far, I think Wedge, Hobbie, and that smuggler are the only ones who've seen him practice with it, though. They say it's pretty impressive. Solo said he once took out two bounty hunters just by deflecting their blaster bolts back at them with the blade."  
  
"And that doesn't scare you?" Genna finally managed to ask.  
  
Tycho looked back at her, his expression serious. "Look, I know you and he don't get along. But trust me on this one. He's a good man. I trust him with my life."  
  
"You do?"  
  
"Each and every time I fly with him," he replied.   
  
Genna knew he was telling the truth, but having seen Vader in action, she remained skeptical. After all, that was what gave the Dark Lord his power, too, wasn't it? And he'd used it to destroy her home. She looked at Tycho, and it seemed he was reading her thoughts. Of course, he was Alderaanian, as well. If he trusted Luke, why couldn't she?  
  
He rose and took her hand to help her up. "Let's get you to sickbay to get you checked out," he said, changing the subject.  
  
She nodded, allowing him to help her stand. As he led her out of the hangar, she realized that it was a long trip back to Ithull. She was sure she'd have plenty of time between now and their arrival to study Luke Skywalker. Then, maybe, she would make up her mind about him. 


	11. Chapter 11

Hearts are Meant To: Chapter 11  
  
Disclaimer: All previous disclaimers apply. I own none of this (with the exception of Genna Cage, who is my creation; but since she's playing in GL's playground, that's a moot point).  
  
  
  
Luke rubbed his tired eyes with the back of his wrist, trying to avoid getting engine grease all over his face. To call this a long day would be an understatement. The truth was, he was absolutely emotionally and physically drained to the core. The Rogues had met earlier to discuss the battle, and all of them had shared their emotions over the loss of Rogue Nine. Then, the rest of them gone to bed, to recuperate from the day's draining events. Unfortunately, the emotional elements that were draining Luke as well would be keeping him from getting any form of sleep. So it was all he could do to keep his exhausted brain occupied until things had settled enough for him to get some rest without fear of nightmares or disturbing dreams. Unfortunately, it seemed the entire cruiser was well into the sleep cycle, so there was no hope for company. Only he remained awake, sitting atop the lone X-wing in the hangar, busily repairing the broken stabilizer.  
  
"What are you doing?"  
  
The voice caused Luke to jump slightly. He'd been so engrossed in his task, he hadn't sensed anyone in the hangar. He also hadn't expected anyone to be awake at this hour. Craning his neck to see the owner of the voice, he spotted none other than Genna Cage, standing with her arms crossed over her chest, looking up at him as though demanding an answer. He grimaced. She was the last person he wanted to see on a day like this. Especially right now, when he didn't even have the energy to muster any animosity toward her if he wanted to. In fact, if anything, he felt slightly ashamed for the way he'd handled things with her at the start. He shook his head, wondering why he was feeling so vulnerable all of a sudden. He must be really emotionally drained to be thinking that way.  
  
"Fixing the stabilizer," he answered, turning back to his work.  
  
"Why?" came another demanding question.   
  
Without looking up, he replied, "Why not?"  
  
"Because most sane people would be asleep at this hour."  
  
He chuckled slightly as he tugged on a particularly stubborn metal clamp. "So what's your excuse?"  
  
There was a slight pause before he heard her respond, "Well, I never really claimed to be sane, now did I?"  
  
Luke shook his head. He could hear the irritation in her voice, but he also heard something else. He wasn't quite sure what it was, or why she remained standing down there. Looking back down toward her, he asked, "Well, are you going to keep standing down there and asking me questions, or would you rather come on up and ask me questions where you can see what I'm doing?"  
  
She cocked her head to the side incredulously. "Where should I go?"  
  
"Wing's fine," he said, indicating the starboard upper wing. He watched as she seemed to consider his suggestion for a moment before clambering up to have a seat where he had indicated, her legs dangling over the side. "Don't fall now," he teased.  
  
He was rewarded with a scowl that brought his focus back to his work.  
  
Silence followed for a time, as he pulled apart pieces of the broken stabilizer and she watched intently. He was trying to figure out how much of it was salvageable. So far, it didn't look too bad. There were a few spare pieces in a crate down below. He'd noted them earlier. With what he could salvage, combined with the spare parts, he might have this thing repaired by morning.  
  
"It's amazing," Genna commented after a time. "I know everything there is about flying this thing, but if you asked me to do what you're doing right now, I wouldn't know where to start."  
  
"At least I know I have a job to fall back on if I ever quit piloting," Luke responded with a slight grin.  
  
"Or if you have chronic insomnia," Genna added wryly.  
  
"It beats waiting for the repair techs to get to work on it," Luke argued. "They can take weeks."  
  
"So, how'd you learn?" she asked.  
  
Luke shrugged his shoulders. "I've always been mechanical, I guess. I used to tinker with appliances when I was little. Then my uncle put me to work repairing droids and vaporators. I also made modifications to an old beat-up landspeeder I bought dirt-cheep, and got her running real good. Then there was the skyhopper."  
  
"Stang, Skywalker!" Genna laughed.   
  
Luke looked up with a guarded grin. "What can I say? Tatooine was kind of dull." Looking back down at the stabilizer, he couldn't help but wonder why she was here. Was she trying to make peace? Or, he thought darkly, was she after more information to use against the Rogues? He frowned. He was too tired to play games. Better get everything out in the open now.  
  
He set down his tools and stared at her, trying to find the right words to say. "Genna, look," he started, feeling foolish but too tired to care, "I know we didn't exactly start out on the right foot, and I know that the circumstances at the time were, well-"  
  
"Catastrophic?" Genna supplied.  
  
Luke smiled weakly. "You could say that," he admitted. "Look, I just want to say that I'm sorry. And for the sake of the Rogues and the Renegades, I'm willing to put everything aside to work together." There, he'd gone and apologized. Why? He didn't really know why he'd done it. And as she remained silent, he wondered if it had been such a good idea.  
  
When she didn't say anything for a few moments, he went back to his work. That idea had been a bust. It just showed what you got when you tried to take initiative by apologizing to a woman.  
  
"You know, making your peace with me won't bring him back," she finally said softly.  
  
He froze, an icy chill coursing through his body. His hand trembled and he nearly dropped the clamp he held in his hand. That was not the response he'd been expecting. Where had it come from? And why had she felt the need to tell him that? His stomach soured, and all thoughts of guilt toward her vanished in a wave of disbelief. How could she have said what she just said? Why would she assume that any apology to her would have anything to do with Kal? A wave of guilt over the man's death hit him. Kal had been one of his pilots, under his command. It shouldn't have happened.  
  
Somehow, Luke found the power to move again, and he continued work on the stabilizer, all but shutting out the woman on the wing.  
  
"Were you close?"  
  
This time, her question caused him to jerk his head up in response and level her with an icy gaze. "What are you playing at?" he whispered coldly.  
  
Her face was just as cold. "Just asking a question."  
  
Luke broke the gaze first, lacking the emotional strength at the moment to hold it any longer. Strangely, he felt compelled to answer, although he wondered if it was in answer to her question or in release of his own pent up emotions. "No, we weren't," he said quietly. "He was a bit of a loner, hadn't been with the Rogues very long, and he didn't quite fit in with the group. Not like Dack, who slipped right in. Kal made it hard to get to know him. I honestly can't say if I knew him at all." He sighed, releasing the tightness that wanted to gather in his throat.  
  
"It wasn't your fault, you know," Genna's voice softly pressed.  
  
Luke shook his head, refusing to look up at her to meet her gaze. "Yes, it was. It was my job to get him back alive. I failed."  
  
Genna's reply was more insistent. "Luke, you saved about a third of Renegade Flight today. That's hardly failure. Heck, you even saved me."  
  
"How?"  
  
"When you swept in and nailed those two TIEs."  
  
Had he done that? He didn't remember. In fact, he didn't remember a lot of what happened out there. It was like some sort of dream. "I'm sorry, but the whole day is kind of hazy," he remarked. "Are you sure that was me?"  
  
"Positive," she answered. She was quiet a moment. Then she added, "And as far as Kal is concerned, he made his own mistakes and paid for them. That's part of what being a pilot is all about. You can't be responsible for the actions of every single person up there."  
  
Luke shrugged. "I can try."  
  
Silence followed again, and Luke braced himself for what she would dredge up next. He actually wished she would get tired and leave. A quick glance at her told him that this was not likely, however.  
  
"Does this relax you, or something?" she finally asked.  
  
Luke sighed, his patience wearing thin. "Usually." He added darkly, "Although I may have some ulterior motive for tampering with your stabilizer."  
  
Genna chuckled. "I wouldn't put it past you."  
  
Luke grinned dryly without looking up. "Don't you trust me?"  
  
When she didn't answer at all, he got curious and shifted his gaze back toward her. He'd expected a flat reply, or a witty retort, but he got nothing. Instead, she was sitting with a pensive look on her face, staring at him. When at last she spoke, it was in a soft voice. "I don't know. It's hard for me to trust someone with Vader's power."  
  
This time the tool did drop from his hand. It slid down the side of the ship and landed on the floor with a loud metallic clang. Luke didn't notice it, however. "What?"  
  
She stared at the ground where the tool had landed. "The Force," she answered simply. "Lightsabers and all that. It makes me very uncomfortable, especially after seeing Vader in action."  
  
"Don't you dare compare me to Vader," he heard himself saying, as though he was somehow detached from the situation. Disbelief mixed with hurt, anger, pride and despair swirled in him, rooting him in place as he glared at her, waiting for her reply.  
  
"Why not? You share the same power," she replied.  
  
She'd crossed the line. Enraged, he picked up another tool that was lying nearby. Without taking his eyes off her, he rammed it into the open stabilizer compartment with all of his might. Sparks flew as metal violently ground against metal.  
  
"Let the techs fix that!" he spat. "And have fun being grounded for a few weeks 'til they do!" With his heart thudding in his ears and a haze of anger before his eyes, he slid to the hangar floor. His foot came in contact with the tool he had dropped earlier, and he kicked it furiously, sending it sailing several meters into the hangar wall. Without another look back, he stormed out.  
  
  
*********  
  
  
Genna watched him go with a mixture of shock and concern, tempered with a bit of self-reproach. After all, she had pushed his buttons, with every intention of seeing what would happen when she did. What better way was there to test him, to find out just what kind of Force-user he was? She just hadn't realized that his reaction to the mention of Vader would be so strong. It nearly rivaled her own. Just what had the Sith Lord done to him to warrant such a quick emotional response to a simple comparison? Then again, she would have probably reacted similarly, if not worse, had someone dared to compare her to that walking nightmare.  
  
Sliding off the wing, she quietly moved toward the hangar exit, contemplating the sensibility behind going after him. Would he continue to rage at her if she followed? Would it be safe and prudent for her to follow a man she didn't quite trust because of his dark potential? Did she owe it to him after what she'd said?  
  
Keeping a window of escape open, she tiptoed up to the doorway and peered into the hall. There was no sign of Skywalker, and no telling where he might have gone. He probably wouldn't have gone back to the crew quarters in such a state, but where else was there to go? Resolved toward heading in the only direction she could imagine him going, she softly treaded the corridor toward the Rogues' quarters. She quietly rounded a corner, and froze.  
  
A few meters away, seated on the floor with his back to the wall and his eyes closed, was Skywalker. He was breathing deeply, apparently trying to calm down and release the anger she had stirred in him. Afraid to move for fear he'd hear her, yet strangely compelled to move closer, she stood rooted in place, staring at the calm face of the man who had violently rendered her stabilizer a complete mess only a few seconds earlier.  
  
"Come to hurl more accusations?"  
  
His quiet question made her jump. Able to move once more, she gingerly crept toward him. "No," she answered simply.  
  
"Then what?" His soft voice was laced with hurt, and it filled her with regret.  
  
Why had she come? What drew her to follow him out here? Why couldn't she leave well enough alone?  
  
"I guess I just wanted to apologize," she heard herself say, much to her own surprise. It was amazing what one's own words could reveal without any prior realization.  
  
Luke simply sighed, glancing up at her with eyes that no longer projected anger. "What is it about the two of us that makes it so difficult for us to get along?"  
  
Genna shrugged at his blunt question, dropping to sit on the floor beside him. "I wish I knew."  
  
Luke shook his head, a hint of a smile appearing on his tired features. "You know, I actually sort of liked you initially."  
  
Genna found herself returning the slight smile. "Same here."  
  
"What happened?"  
  
Moved by a sudden urge to laugh, she chuckled slightly. "I got drunk, you broke your ankle, I had an irrational moment, you had an allergic one." She paused with a shake of her head and continued, "Circumstances just got in the way, I suppose."  
  
He arched an eyebrow at her. "That, and we seem to bring out the worst in each other."  
  
That was an understatement. "I'll have to agree," she conceded.  
  
She watched as Luke glanced back down at the floor. He seemed so helpless all of a sudden-lost and alone. Hardly the heroic Rogue Leader who had saved the day earlier. "So what do we do about it?" he asked at length.  
  
Genna stared back at him, unable to answer. She remembered fights she used to have with her cousins back when she was a little girl on Alderaan. The way they used to hurt each other's feelings so terribly until in tears, they'd hug and say, "Let's start all over, okay?" She smiled at the recollection, the innocence of it, and the ease. Everything was so much simpler then. If you didn't want to fight anymore, you just didn't fight anymore. Start over. Clean slate. All is forgiven. She laughed slightly.  
  
"What?" Luke was staring at her, a confused look on his face.  
  
Genna grinned wistfully. "I just remembered being a kid, fighting with my cousins."  
  
Luke nodded, a smile on his face. "Do overs?"  
  
"Exactly," she answered. "So much simpler then, wasn't it?"  
  
He shrugged his shoulders. "We should try it."  
  
"Try what?"  
  
"Starting from scratch. See if we can't keep from hurting each other the second time around."  
  
Genna laughed out loud at his statement. "You're crazy! That's so silly!"  
  
"Why?" he asked earnestly. "I mean, why complicate things? If little kids can do it-"  
  
"You're out of your mind," she argued, dismissing the idea entirely.  
  
He wouldn't let her, however. Leaning forward, he took her hand in his, saying, "Hi, I'm Luke Skywalker. And you are?"  
  
She shook her head. "I'm not doing this."  
  
"I'm a Rebel pilot," he continued. "They put me in charge of Rogue Squadron, though I'm not sure why. You can call me Lieutenant Commander Skywalker if you'd like."  
  
She felt the smile fighting to spread on her face in spite of her best efforts to be serious. "You're impossible."  
  
"Or you can just call me Luke, since you're not technically under my command." When she rolled her eyes, he leaned closer, refusing to be dissuaded. "And I should probably tell you that my goal is to become a Jedi Knight." He turned serious. "My father was a Jedi, and he was killed by Darth Vader. So was Obi-wan Kenobi, the only man who could have taught me the ways of the Force, my mentor for only a few days. My aunt and uncle were also killed by Vader's stormtroopers, and my best friend was shot down over the Death Star. By Vader."  
  
Genna blinked at him. So that answered all of her questions. And he'd done it in such a simple and straightforward manner. No wonder she'd hurt him with her words. It was all so clear to her now. So simple. And in that moment, Genna Cage, Alderaan survivor and former Imperial, suddenly knew she could trust Luke Skywalker.   
  
Even more significantly, she wanted to be his friend.  
  
Squeezing the hand that held hers, she smiled back at him. "I'm Genna Cage, and apparently I like to make things difficult for men who find relaxation in fixing things."  
  
She was rewarded with a bright laugh from Luke. "Speaking of which," he said, rising to his feet and pulling her up, "let's see about fixing that stabilizer, shall we?" 


	12. Chapter 12

Hearts Are Meant To: Chapter 12  
  
Disclaimers: All the usual disclaimers apply.  
  
  
  
"Up and at em!"  
  
Luke groaned and buried his head further under his pillow to shut out Wedge's annoying voice. He just wanted to get back to that brief yet wonderful deep sleep he'd been so rudely pulled out of.  
  
In a heartbeat, the pillow was yanked off his head as Wedge yelled, "Come on, Luke! It's time to get up."  
  
Refusing to open his eyes, Luke rolled onto his stomach and hid his face in his arms. It couldn't possibly be time to get up already! He'd only gone to sleep . . .. "What time is it?" he slurred sleepily.  
  
"0600,"Wedge replied with a none-too-gentle nudge in his ribs.  
  
"Ugh, Stang!" Luke swore grumpily. "Go away, Wedge."  
  
Wedge, however, wouldn't budge. "Luke, come on, we have a meeting. It's time to get up!"  
  
Muttering a string of curses that would make any Corellian proud, Luke slowly pushed himself up from the bunk, rubbing his eyes and trying to postpone opening them for as long as possible. When he'd finally managed to maneuver himself into something resembling a sitting position, he blinked tentatively. The glaring light of the room made him wince.   
  
"Force, Luke," Wedge laughed. "You look like hell! When did you finally crawl into bed?"  
  
"About thirty minutes ago," Luke mumbled, trying now to focus on something in the room other than Wedge's mocking face."Who decided to hold a meeting at 0600, anyway?"  
  
Wedge ignored his second remark. "What the blazes were you doing all night?"  
  
Rubbing a hand across his face in an attempt to slough off as much sleepiness as he could, Luke replied, "I couldn't sleep, so I spent the night working on that busted stabilizer."  
  
The pat on the back Wedge gave him nearly made him fall over. "Well, that should put you back in Cage's good graces," he teased.  
  
Luke glared at him, getting to his feet and stumbling toward the crumpled flightsuit on the floor. "Actually, she helped." He turned to catch the reaction of his friend, and he wasn't disappointed. The look on Wedge's face was well worth getting up this early.  
  
"She what?"  
  
Climbing into his flightsuit, Luke grinned. "She helped," he yawned. "She didn't know anything about the mechanics of an X-wing, so I taught her a few things. And she eventually helped."  
  
"And you two didn't kill each other in the process?" Wedge asked in disbelief.  
  
"We came close," Luke answered flatly. He waited for a few moments while he kept his face expressionless, wanting to keep Wedge wondering if he was being serious or not. Finally he said, "I'm kidding, Wedge. Actually, we made our peace."  
  
"Great," Wedge exclaimed. "Does this mean she'll come back to the Rogues?"  
  
Luke shook his head as he pulled on his boots. "Wedge," Luke answered with forced patience, "she's a Renegade. She's happy there, and that's where she belongs." After a pause, he added, "Besides, there's no sense tempting fate."  
  
Wedge grinned stupidly. "Meaning you two have a thing going."  
  
With a sigh and a scowl, Luke looked back to him. "Are you always this annoying, or only when I've gotten a half-hour's worth of sleep?"  
  
His friend tried to sober up. "Yeah, I am in a bit of a mood, aren't I?"  
  
Luke silently nodded the affirmative.  
  
Wedge sat down beside him and shook his head. "Been a weird mission."  
  
"It has," Luke quietly agreed.  
  
Wedge was silent. After a moment he sighed and asked, "You sure you two don't have a thing going?"  
  
Luke snatched the pillow that was now lying at his feet where Wedge had dropped it, and nailed him in the head with it. He then rose and ran a hand through his disheveled hair. Once by the door, he turned to Wedge, who was following right behind and said, "Just so you'll know, I'm ignoring you for the rest of the day." He grinned.  
  
Wedge shrugged his shoulders, laughing. "Fine by me!"  
  
The two men then left the room and headed into the corridor. It was empty except for the two of them. Either they were late, or they were too early. No one else seemed to be going anywhere.  
  
As they headed toward the common room, Wedge spoke up, "So was Cage up all night, too?"  
  
"Strange," Luke muttered looking around as though he couldn't see Wedge next to him, "but I seem to be hearing something. Like the voice of an annoying person I'm trying to ignore."  
  
"Hey," Wedge responded defensively, "I'm just trying to find out whether I should avoid her or not. Dealing with cranky females isn't exactly my thing."  
  
Rolling his eyes, Luke murmured, "And it just goes on and on and on . . .."  
  
Throwing his hands up in surrender, Wedge laughed, "Okay, okay. I get the point. I'll shut up now."  
  
"Thank the Force!"  
  
The sound of hurried footsteps could be heard behind them, and the two men spun around to see Hobbie rushing down the corridor, running a hand through his own messy hair as he approached. "This had better be good," he groaned when he reached them.  
  
"Who called this meeting, anyway?" Luke asked, trying not to sound as tired as he felt.  
  
"Dunno," shrugged Hobbie.   
  
"Wedge?" pressed Luke, turning his attention to the dark haired pilot.  
  
Wedge pretended not to hear him. It took a few seconds of silence and Luke's heated gaze before Wedge, turned to them and said, with mock confusion, "I'm sorry, was someone asking me a question? I thought I was being ignored."  
  
Luke turned back to Hobbie. "Remind me to kill him if the Imps don't do it first."  
  
"Copy that, Commander," Hobbie replied with a grin.  
  
They'd reached the door to the meeting room stepped inside. Most of the Rogues were already assembled there, milling around with steaming cups of caff in their hands. Luke immediately sought the source of the desired beverage. It took him a moment to spot the small table set up in the corner, and he headed straight for it.  
  
He'd nearly reached the table when he heard Genna enter the room. "Give me some caff, and no one gets hurt."  
  
Luke chuckled as he poured his own cup. Wes, who was standing beside him at the table, called out, "Caff's on, right here."  
  
"Sweet Angels of Iego," she sighed, rushing to the table and nearly bumping into Luke as she threw an arm around Wes's shoulder. "Janson, you're my new best friend."  
  
Wes laughed as he poured her a cup. "Not a morning person, eh, Cage?"  
  
Luke threw a glance at her, noting her disheveled appearance and the dark circles that rested under her tired eyes.   
  
She met his gaze and smiled dryly. "Not when I get only three hours' sleep."  
  
Wedge stepped up. "Wait a second! Luke said he only got thirty minutes of sleep."  
  
"That's because Cage wimped out on me," Luke replied with a wink at Genna before taking a sip of his caff. "I thought she was going to pass out, so I finally sent her off to her room to get some real sleep."  
  
Wes took a step back at his remark. "And what exactly were you two doing, if I may be so bold? Last I heard, you hated each other."  
  
Luke watched as Genna turned back to Wedge with a gentle, patronizing expression. "Ah, Wes. If you only knew. There's nothing like a guy who gets my ship running in the night!"  
  
Caught off guard between a swallow and a laugh, Luke missed the looks on the other men's faces as he nearly choked to death on his caff. He continued to laugh and cough simultaneously for a few moments as Genna pounded on his back and tears came to his eyes. When he finally managed to bring himself under control, he wiped the tears from his reddened cheeks and patted Genna on the arm. "That was good," he chuckled. "That was very good. Either that, or I'm just really, really tired."  
  
Genna grinned. "That was good, wasn't it?"  
  
Wes shook his head. "I'm so lost."  
  
"I'll explain later," Wedge told him with a grin.  
  
Wes's eyebrows shot up in alarm. "It's not what I think, is it?"  
  
Struggling against residual coughs and giggles, Luke pointedly ignored his question and grabbed his remaining caff. He pointed toward the chairs set up in the room. "I'm going to go sit down now," he told the others. He was still giggling by the time he sat down, even as he wondered what the meeting was going to be about.   
  
As sleep-deprived as he was, it was sure to be an experience.  
  
  
*****  
  
  
  
"Wait, lemme get this straight," an irritated Wedge demanded. "We're flying diversion again?"  
  
Genna glanced over at the obviously distraught Rogue. She didn't blame him for being upset. She would be, too. Especially considering the price they'd paid on the last diversionary flight just yesterday.  
  
In the buzz that followed his comment, she almost missed Wes Janson's whispered response. "Didn't you hear?" he said as he nudged Wedge. "They're thinking of changing our name to Live Bait Squadron."  
  
Luke nearly choked on his caff again, but he covered nicely. Commander Laire, however, standing at the front of the room, did not appreciate the various reactions of the Rogues, and he deepened his frown.  
  
"I understand that this is not the most pleasant of assignments," the white-haired man spoke sternly. "However it is a necessity."  
  
The Rogues continued to grumble in irritation.  
  
Luke finally spoke up. "Commander," he said, trying to make his voice sound forceful in spite of his exhaustion, "won't it look suspicious for a group of headhunters and a cruiser to suddenly drop out of hyperspace and into the path of an Imperial starship? It's obvious that we have no business being anywhere in the area. Our ships don't even have hyperdrives."  
  
Many of the other pilots in the room nodded their heads in agreement.  
  
Laire seemed to be growing uncomfortable under the scrutiny. He cleared his throat. "Lieutenant Commander Skywalker," he bit out severely, "our main goal is to divert as much attention away from Derra IV as possible. This is the most expeditious way to do so."  
  
"Yes, but with all due respect," Luke argued, "I've already lost one man. I can't afford to lose anyone else on a mission that, quite frankly, seems rather senseless."  
  
Genna stared at him in disbelief for his brazen comment. Surely, Luke had been with the Rebellion long enough to know where to draw the line when addressing a superior officer. But the manner in which he was now questioning Laire's orders made her anxious.  
  
Laire, himself, seemed rather put out by Luke's words, as well. "My orders come from Alliance High Command, Lieutenant Commander," he practically snarled. "If you have a problem with them, take it up with Command when you get back."  
  
Genna's eyes darted to Luke again, and she saw a muscle in his jaw twitch. He was not happy about this at all, she noted. In fact, he looked very close to walking out of the room and calling Alliance Command himself. Instead, he simply stared coldly back at the Commander without another word.  
  
Wedge's hand shot up a split-second later. "Sir?"  
  
Commander Laire pulled his gaze away from Skywalker's dark glare and looked at Wedge. "Yes?"  
  
"We're still down one pilot."  
  
Laire grinned smugly at his question. "I've already assigned techs to Cage's ship. She will be flying with you."  
  
Genna then spoke up. "Uh, sir, that won't be necessary."  
  
Misinterpreting her comment, the man looked at her sharply. "Exactly what do you mean by that?"  
  
She swallowed under his sudden glare. Obviously, with the general mood of this meeting, he assumed she was refusing to fly with the Rogues. "What I meant was," she hastily explained, "the stabilizer's already been fixed, sir."  
  
"By whom?" he demanded.  
  
"Skywalker fixed it last night," she replied.  
  
Again, Laire grinned darkly. "Well, that would certainly explain his unpleasant demeanor this morning," he sneered toward Luke. Shifting his gaze back to Genna, he added, "Nevertheless, I'll have the techs check it out."  
  
She saw Luke stiffen out of the corner of her eye, and she winced in sympathy. This man was clearly all of the worst elements of the Rebellion rolled into one. And he certainly had no affection for Skywalker. Or his mechanical abilities. "Yes, sir," she answered stiffly.  
  
Laire nodded before addressing the rest of the Rogues. "You have exactly eight hours until we come out of hyperspace. I assume you'll spend the time wisely."  
  
A grumbled affirmative was the only response he received.  
  
Sensing that it would be best to end this whole thing, Laire then snapped, "Dismissed!"  
  
The Rogues were practically climbing over one another to leave, with Luke in the lead. Genna had to hurry to follow him, nearly tripping on her way out the door. By the time she stepped out into the corridor, he was halfway to his room.  
  
"Skywalker, wait up," she called, rushing to catch up to him.  
  
He paused, but did not turn around.  
  
She reached his side and murmured, "Sure is a nice guy, isn't he?" She threw a sidelong glance at Luke to see the thin smile on his lips. "So where are you off to?"  
  
"To take a nap," he replied. "I don't want to keep from 'spending my time wisely'," he added in a perfect impression of Laire.  
  
Genna smiled. "Of course not," she laughed. "Well, have fun sleeping." She started to walk away.  
  
Luke turned toward her and reached for her shoulder. "Wake me up in four hours?"  
  
His unexpected request startled her, and she cautiously turned back to him. "What about Wedge?" she asked, a slight tremor in her voice that made her wonder at its origins.  
  
With a shake of his head, Luke responded, "Uh-uh. He got me up this morning, and I have no desire to repeat the experience."  
  
"That unpleasant, huh?"  
  
He nodded.  
  
Taking a deep breath, she answered. "Sure, no problem."  
  
"Great," he said with a grin. "See you in four." With that, he continued heading down the hall away from her.  
  
Genna stood there for several moments, watching his retreating form with a strange mixture of feelings she couldn't identify. Rubbing her eyes wearily, she turned toward her own room and sighed. No sense worrying about things she was too tired to figure out anyway. Luke's idea of a nap suddenly sounded really good. As she headed toward her quarters, she decided to catch two hours of sleep. That should really be enough, she mused. Of course, she'd have to set her alarm.  
  
She stopped mid-step. Spinning back around to face the direction Skywalker had just gone, she wondered why he had bothered to ask her to get him up. Surely, the man had to have a chrono in his quarters somewhere! Shaking her head in irritation, she groaned, "Men!" 


	13. Chapter 13

Hearts Are Meant To: Chapter 13  
  
Disclaimers: All of the usual disclaimers apply.  
  
A big "Thank You" goes out to all of you reviewers and readers out there! For those of you that have read this story before, I've made some serious changes to the previous version that I hope you will enjoy. And now, on with the show:  
  
  
  
"NO!"  
  
Luke bolted awake at the sound of his own hoarse cry. Gasping for breath, he struggled to get a complete grasp on consciousness. He was sitting up on his bunk, panting and bathed in a cold sweat. Something had terrified him and pulled him back to wakefulness abruptly. But whatever it had been, he couldn't identify it.  
  
A sound broke into his puzzlement. Someone was pounding on the door.  
  
Trying to pull himself together, he strode to the door. He took a deep breath and tried to slow his racing heart. Standing in front of the door, he palmed it open with a deliberate calm, trying to appear steadier than he felt.  
  
Genna's concerned face appeared in the doorway. "You okay?" she asked worriedly. "I was on my way here, and I heard you cry out. Mynock-spit, you look like hell!"  
  
Luke self-consciously ran a hand through his hair, and it came away damp. He could feel the cool air against his sweat-soaked skin and he shivered. "I'm okay," he replied dismissively, knowing full well that only a dewback-brain would believe him.  
  
"Nightmare?" Genna pressed.  
  
Luke shook his head. "I'm not sure. Probably. It's nothing."  
  
Genna continued to eye him dubiously. "You sure?"  
  
"Yeah," he answered, trying to give her his most reassuring smile. He knew she probably didn't buy it.  
  
Whether she did or not became irrelevant as she blurted, "Well, never mind that. 'Cause we're late."  
  
"What?"  
  
"I overslept," she explained, an apologetic look crossing her face. "Apparently, I was more sleepy than I initially thought, and I slept right through my alarm."  
  
Luke groaned, looking around the room for his helmet and gear. He'd slept in his flightsuit, practically falling asleep before he even reached the bunk, so he didn't have that to worry about. Still, "How late?"  
  
"We're set to pull out of hyperspace in fifteen minutes," she replied.  
  
"Shavit!" Luke quickly grabbed his things and hustled her out the door. "Let's run."  
  
The two of them sprinted quickly down the corridor, Luke clutching his gear tightly as he ran. The exercise burned off whatever lingering effects had remained from the dream he'd had, and he felt fully alert and ready for action when they entered the hangar. Of course, that didn't stop him from colliding with an officer in his hurry.  
  
The impact sent the officer and Luke's helmet tumbling to the floor. Luke quickly swore and moved to help the officer back up. "I'm terribly sorry," he apologized. "You all right?"  
  
The officer nodded, obviously in a bit of discomfort. He wheezed, "Just got the wind knocked out of me."  
  
"I'm so sorry," Luke repeated, helping him up. "I wasn't looking where I was going."  
  
"That's okay," the officer grunted with an expression that rested somewhere between a smile and a grimace.  
  
Luke heard Genna's sharp intake of breath the moment the officer looked up at them, and he glanced back at her.  
  
"Well, I guess we just keep running into each other, don't we?" she asked.  
  
Luke was puzzled. "You know him?" He looked back at the officer, but he couldn't place the face anywhere in his memory.  
  
"He helped me get you to the medcenter during your little allergy spell," Genna explained. "Luke, this is uh . . .Grey, was it?"  
  
"Yes," the man answered with a smile. He gave Luke a salute. "Commander Skywalker, it's good to see you conscious."  
  
Luke forced a weak grin. "Yeah, well, thanks," he muttered, trying to be polite but really not feeling it. Something was wrong. There was a nagging feeling he couldn't put his finger on. "Uh, as much as I'd like to talk, I've really got to start up the pre-flight sequence on the Headhunter. You know how temperamental they can be." He knew it was a lame excuse, but it was also the truth. With a nod to Grey, Luke headed toward the docked ships and the group of Rogues standing nearby.  
  
"Ah, he decided to show up!" Wedge cried, seeing his approach.  
  
"And notice, he does not come alone," added Wes with a sly wink.  
  
A series of whistles greeted Wes's comment, and Luke groaned.  
  
"Ease up, guys," Genna laughed from behind him. "Your esteemed leader doesn't know how to work a chrono alarm, so I had to wake him up for you. Didn't want you boys flyin' alone out there."  
  
Hobbie gave her a skeptical look. "And where were you, Cage, while he was asleep?"  
  
Luke turned a sharp glance at Genna, wondering what her possible response would be. It was as bad as he'd feared.  
  
With a coy smile she replied, "Wouldn't you boys love to know?"  
  
Luke could feel his cheeks redden as a series of hoots, hollers, and whistles responded to her comment. He knew this wouldn't die down quickly.  
  
Tycho yawned. "You know, I'm kinda sleepy myself. Mind waking me up in ten minutes, Cage?" he laughed.  
  
"All right, boys," Luke broke in, an uncharacteristic and annoying squeak entering his voice as he spoke, "that's enough. In case you haven't noticed, we're supposed to be flyin' a mission in less than ten minutes."  
  
"Sure thing, boss," Wedge nodded with a grin. "But, don't think you're getting out of this that easily."  
  
Luke laughed, easing his embarrassment a little. "Is that a threat?"  
  
"Just wait 'til we get docked again, Boss Wanna-Be!" he crowed as he moved toward his ship.  
  
Suddenly the ground seemed to shift beneath his feet as Luke felt a tingling sensation at the back of his neck. His stomach lurched and he seemed to be watching Wedge's departure in slow motion. His vision blurred, and he almost swore he suddenly saw his friend lying dead at his feet. In response, his stomach rolled and his knees started to tremble, threatening to pitch him to the ground in short order. Suddenly, there was a vice-like grip on his forearms.  
  
"Luke! Luke! Snap out of it!" a voice was shouting.  
  
Luke brought his vision back into focus to see Genna standing in front of him, a look of sheer terror on her face as she held onto him. He blinked at her, reality-bound once more. He didn't know what had just happened. Whatever it was, it wasn't good.  
  
"Something's wrong," he croaked. His voice wasn't cooperating.  
  
"No kidding," Genna responded tensely. "I thought you were gonna pass out on me. What the blazes is wrong with you?"  
  
Luke looked away from her, glancing around at the hangar. The rest of the Rogues were climbing into their ships, while he and Genna just stood there. For some strange reason, he inexplicably felt that he was doing the right thing by standing there, instead of getting into his own craft. Something was terribly wrong about the mission.  
  
"I've got to stop them," he whispered.  
  
"Stop who?" Genna demanded. "Luke, you're scaring me."  
  
He looked back at her, sudden desperation coursing through him. "The mission," he blurted. "It's all wrong. Something's going to happen. We can't go out there."  
  
She paled. "The Force?" she whispered hoarsely, the words seemingly uttered in reluctance.  
  
"I don't know," Luke answered truthfully. He looked around frantically. He spotted Grey a few feet away looking puzzled. Desperate to do something, he ran over to him.  
  
"Contact Commander Laire," he ordered the man. "We have to abort."  
  
"What?" Grey's puzzlement seemed to double.  
  
Genna was beside him in a heartbeat, grabbing his arm. "Luke, are you out of your mind?"  
  
Luke's heart was pounding, as he knew time was running out. He had to convince her. "The dream. Maybe it wasn't a dream. Maybe it was a vision. I don't know. It's just . . ." he faltered, realizing how crazy his sounded. "Something is going to happen." His gaze shifted to fall on Grey, and Luke thought he saw a glint of something strange in the man's eye. In a flash it was gone, leaving Luke to wonder if he actually was going insane. He looked back at Genna. "Genna, please. Believe me."  
  
For a pregnant moment, Genna only stared back at him, doubt written across her features. Then she spoke, "I have an idea. Luke, take my ship, and I'll take yours."  
  
This time, it was Luke's turn to be puzzled. "What?"  
  
"The established scenario has been that I take my X-wing into the battle with you and the Rogues flying the Headhunters. If you take my ship, maybe the scenario will be shifted enough to prevent your vision from happening. Or something like that." She finished, staring at him expectantly.  
  
Luke shook his head. "Genna, I don't know how these things work. I don't know . . ."  
  
She narrowed her eyes and spoke sharply, "Well, it's either that or a court martial! 'Cause you've got no way of explaining this whole 'feeling' of yours, do you? And if you refuse to fly, that's what you'll be looking at! And we don't have time to mess around!"  
  
As the true weight behind her words settled in his mind, Luke could only nod in acceptance. She was right, he knew. He didn't feel better about it, but she was right. And if anything did happen, he'd be better able to help matters out there than alone in the hangar. In resignation, he squeezed her shoulder and spoke to Grey, "Inform Commander Laire of the change." Without waiting for the other man's response, he gave one last look at Genna before heading toward her X-wing.  
  
"She's all ready to go, sir," a waiting tech informed him."  
  
Luke only nodded, looking at the astromech with the green dome peeking out of the top of the ship. How he wished to be in his own X-wing, with Artoo. Shaking his head to dismiss the thoughts and his feelings of apprehension, he climbed aboard. He quickly ran through his pre-flight checks, glancing out the canopy as he did so. He saw Genna give him a slight salute as she climbed aboard his Z-95, and he forced a smile and a wave, not knowing if she could see him.  
  
As he prepared to launch, all he could do was pray that the feelings of dread that were now coursing through him were unfounded. He knew, however, that the chances of that were highly unlikely.  
  
  
*********  
  
  
"There's nothing out here," Wedge's voice spoke through the comm.   
  
Genna had to agree. Since they'd dropped out of hyperspace, the only thing that had been there to greet them was the "nothing" that Wedge had mentioned. Although unexpected, it was reassuring. After all, with all of Luke's carrying on, Genna had been more than a little tense and anxious about this mission herself. Although she hated getting worked up over nothing, it certainly beat the alternative.  
  
"I say we wait a few more minutes, and then we head back to the cruiser and get out of here," Luke instructed.  
  
"I'll second that," Genna remarked staring out at the stars that twinkled through the transparisteel canopy. Her eyes darted to the X-wing floating above her. She smiled. Maybe her plan had worked.  
  
"I hate waiting," she heard one of the Rogues grumble.  
  
Luke's laugh rippled through the comm. Even without seeing him, Genna could hear the slight tension in that laugh. It wasn't his usual. She stiffened and shook her head. Since when had she become so interested in what his laugh sounded like? And why had she even noticed? His voice brought her out of her irritating line of questions.  
  
"Have a little patience, boys."  
  
This time it was Zev's turn to laugh. "You're certainly one to talk. Eh, Boss?"  
  
"Since when have you ever been patient, Luke?" Wes agreed.  
  
"Since right now," Luke replied. "I'd rather be waiting here than fighting Imperial ships at the moment."  
  
"Whoa," gasped Wedge in mock alarm. "Where's Luke and what have you done to our Boss?"  
  
Luke gave another tense laugh, one that made Genna feel more worried. Was he anticipating something? Had he somehow managed to sense something through the Force? She shuddered involuntarily. The whole idea of the Force still made her horribly uneasy. It just wasn't right, not when you saw how dangerous it could become. And Luke, well, Luke was so honest, so kind, so . . . so good. What if his power somehow corrupted him? She shook her head, trying not to think about it. She didn't need to be distracted right now.  
  
She kept eyeing her scopes, making sure something wasn't sneaking up on them from somewhere unexpected. But each time she checked, it was the same. Nothing.  
  
"Looks like we got a no-show, Boss," Tycho said.  
  
Silence followed for several seconds, as Genna waited for Luke's orders.   
  
At last, he sighed. "I agree, Celchu. But something doesn't feel right about this."  
  
"Yeah," agreed Wes. "Like why we're out here in the first place."  
  
Genna nodded silently. Sitting out in space like this, she had to agree that something seemed terribly wrong about this whole situation. Her experience with the Empire only heightened the sense of impending danger. After all, Imperial jumps were well-organized endeavors. Unless they had prior knowledge of the Rebel's plan to intercept, they should be here. Glancing back up at her X-wing, another possibility came to mind; the whole thing felt like someone had thrown a hydrospanner into a well-oiled machine. She shivered at the thought, for it would mean only one thing.  
  
"Rogues, Cage," Luke's voice broke into her thoughts, "take your ships back to the cruiser."  
  
"What about you?" Genna asked, a bit too abruptly.  
  
"I'll follow you in after one last sweep," he replied. "That way, Laire can't say I didn't do my job."  
  
"You want any of us to stay behind with you?" she heard Wedge ask.  
  
"No," was Luke's answer. "Your ships don't have hyperdrives, and I want you all aboard the cruiser in case we have to make a quick jump."  
  
"But, Boss," Wes started to protest.  
  
"That's an order, Janson," Luke said sharply, cutting him off. "There was supposed to be one Imperial ship out here, and instead there's nothing. That means, we have no idea what could pop out of hyperspace, if anything at all. I don't think it's a good idea for a handful of Headhunters to take on a couple squadrons of TIEs without a chance of escape."  
  
"So then why should you stay behind?" Genna argued.  
  
"Because Laire ordered us out here, and I'm not about to disobey orders, Cage."  
  
She swallowed hard. She knew he was reminding her of her little speech about the possible repercussions of such actions, and she didn't like her own arguments tossed back at her. "But aren't you sending us back to she ship?"  
  
"I am," he countered, tension evident in his voice. "It's not disobedience. I'd like to think of it as a loose interpretation."  
  
"Laire will have your hide, Luke!" Wedge warned.  
  
"Better that than a dead squadron," Luke countered with a growl. "Now go!"  
  
Silence followed, while the Rogues pondered the situation. Genna's heartbeat thudded in her ears as she bit her lip, struggling to decide which way to go.  
  
Tycho broke in. "You heard the man," he said grimly. "Let's head on in, Rogues."  
  
Genna watched as the Rogues reluctantly turned their ships around one by one and headed back to the cruiser.  
  
"And Renegade," Tycho added, seeing Genna's hesitation.  
  
Feeling torn, but knowing she had no choice, Genna turned her ship around headed for the hangar bay. As the flew, she tried to keep an eye on her scopes, making sure nothing entered realspace while she wasn't looking. She wasn't sure why she was so apprehensive. "Must be Luke's jumpiness rubbing off," she mused as she guided her ship into the hangar, splitting her concentration between the maneuver and her readouts. As soon as she was docked, she ran through the shutdown sequence as quickly as possible, and hopped out of the ship. She noticed that Wedge was leaving the hangar at a sprint, and she followed him.  
  
"Antilles, wait up!" she called. When he didn't slow down, she quickened her pace and panted, "Where are you going?"  
  
"The bridge," he replied without looking back. "I've got a very bad feeling about this." 


	14. Chapter 14

Hearts Are Meant To: Chapter 14  
  
  
Wedge was only vaguely aware of the footfalls behind him as he made his way through the cavernous steel corridors of the ship. Breathless and frantic, he finally managed to stumble onto the bridge, facing the angered and bewildered looks of the officers gathered there.  
  
"What's the meaning of this, Antilles?" a red-faced Commander Laire demanded, his eyes glaring daggers at Wedge as he struggled to catch his breath and appear dignified at the same time.  
  
Before Wedge could reply, however, a voice behind him spoke quickly. "It's a trap," Genna Cage panted, voice tinged with emotion.  
  
Wedge spun on her. "What?" He'd had a bad feeling about this whole thing . . . but a trap?  
  
Cage, however, remained calm, though insistent. "It's a set-up. This whole diversionary mission."  
  
Laire didn't seem to be listening, or didn't care to. "You listen here," he all but spat at them, "from this moment, consider Rogue Squadron grounded until further notice. And I want Skywalker brought to me when he docks. He'll pay for . . ."  
  
"For what?" Cage yelled back, cutting him off. "It's him they want!"  
  
Wedge froze. "What?" he asked again, more panicked this time. He was too stunned to form more than monosyllabic responses.  
  
Even Laire appeared momentarily stunned. "Explain yourself, Cage."  
  
"This whole secondary mission was a ploy to get Skywalker," she stated matter-of-factly.  
  
Wedge felt cold and immediately defensive. Luke was out there now. Did he know? "Are you sure?" he pressed.  
  
"How do you know this?" Laire asked at the same time.  
  
Cage shook her head as though irritated with their lack of knowledge about the situation. "I flew in the Imperial Navy. I know that if a ship is scheduled to be at a precise location at a precise moment, it's there." She paused for effect. "Particularly if it's purposely set up for the entrapment of a highly-wanted individual. Everything is nailed to the precise detail."  
  
"I don't get it," Wedge interrupted. "If that's the case, why weren't there any ships when we dropped out of hyperspace, like there were supposed to be?"  
  
"Because Luke and I thwarted the plan," Cage said in a tone that conveyed the sense of trying to communicate with a two-year old. She looked pointedly at Laire. "We swapped ships, remember?"  
  
Laire narrowed his eyes at her and demanded, "What difference would that make?"  
  
Cage sighed, seeming to no longer care if she appeared disrespectful in front of her superiors. "Do a sensor sweep of the Headhunter. His ship was probably rigged with a homing beacon or a slave circuit or some other way to make it easier for the Imps to catch him."  
  
"But since you two swapped ships, the Imps aborted," Wedge finished for her, his face grave. "Meaning we've got an imperial agent on board."  
  
Laire cut in indignantly, "You are both jumping to preposterous conclusions here. And as far as I'm concerned, neither of you has any evidence. I want Skywalker brought in here immediately!"  
  
"Sir!" A cry from another officer on the bridge caused the three to turn around.  
  
Wedge felt his heart plummet to his gut as he stared out the transparisteel canopy. The stars were no longer visible, blocked completely from view. There, right in front of them, a massive Imperial spacecraft had dropped out of hyperspace and was bearing down on them. Wedge could only gape at its size and possible armament. He'd never seen anything like it before. "What the hell is that?" he found himself whispering.  
  
Beside him, he heard Cage whisper, "Sithspawn, they did it."  
  
"Oh stars," Laire gasped, barely audible.  
  
Wedge continued to gaze at the titanic monstrosity, ignoring Laire. Again, he asked, "What is it, Cage?"  
  
He met her gaze as she pulled her own eyes away from the looming ship. "The Executor," she replied simply.  
  
  
*********  
  
  
The air seemed to freeze in Luke's lungs as he gazed at the colossal battleship through the canopy. It had emerged out of the silent stars exactly where Luke had expected it, and now it terrified him. He knew, knew with a certainty he could not explain, that the ship had dropped out of hyperspace for him. He knew that the ship was no less terrifying than its commander. And he knew that there was only one man who commanded that ship.  
  
"Vader," he croaked, dumbly aware of the thudding of his heart in his ears as he gaped, stone still with frightening conviction that the Dark Lord of the Sith was on board. His heartbeat grew louder as his body grew colder and his stomach clenched itself into a crystalline rock. He'd never experienced fear like this. The knowledge that such a creature as Vader was after him paralyzed him with a terror he'd never known. Yet, how did he know that it was Vader? How did he know that Vader was seeking him, alone among the throngs of rebels?   
  
He forced himself to swallow. He simply knew.  
  
"Skywalker, get out of there! Now!"  
  
The disembodied words in his headset jarred him out of his paralysis and into action. Blindly flailing still fear-numbed hands across the controls of the X-wing, he unconsciously sent it into hyperspace along the trajectory he'd already calculated moments earlier. Stars became starlines in his dim awareness, and he felt the vague tug as his ship accelerated. Soon the canopy was awash with hyperspace blue, and Luke dazedly tried to get his bearings.  
  
Sweat-dampened clothes clung to his body, and Luke shakily brushed away the drops that clung to his eyelashes and forehead. He was trembling now. Stars, he was trembling! He needed to get a grip on himself. What kind of soldier was he to react this way? He was acting like a two year-old in the grip of a nightmare. And Uncle Owen wouldn't have condoned behavior like this even at that age. What was wrong with him?   
  
He shook his head, feeling the blood return to his face and hands, the familiar heat it brought rising. Anger was beginning to replace the fear. Anger at himself for his cowardice. Had he truly just run away? Had he truly fled from Vader's ship?  
  
Vader.  
  
The name now caused his blood to boil, as surely as it had caused it to freeze moments earlier. That monster had killed his father, his family, his best friend, and his mentor! Vader had destroyed Leia's home! And Vader had undoubtedly committed countless other atrocities about which Luke had yet to learn, he was sure! Vader deserved to die for what he had done. And Luke had sworn that he would be the one to deliver the killing blow.  
  
But what blow had he delivered just now? What message had he sent the Dark Lord? That he was a child too afraid to face him? That he was a coward who ran away when the situation got too much to handle? Would he have stayed had he not known that Vader was on board?  
  
He had known! How? How had he known that Vader was on that ship? Had it been the Force? He squeezed his eyes shut, searching for the memory of that moment of discovery. He sighed wearily as he found none. Just another reminder of his pathetic lack of instruction and control. How was he ever to become a Jedi without knowledge? How would he ever get his revenge if he didn't know how to truly feel and use the Force? He growled as two hot angry tears forced their way out of his shut eyes. No! He would not waste water in such a pathetic display of frustration! He blinked his eyes against the blurry tears and stared at his readouts. Four hours until he reached the rendezvous point. He sighed, biting his lip as he worriedly turned his thoughts toward his squadron. Had they made the jump successfully?  
  
Knowing there was no way to find out until he came out of hyperspace, Luke leaned back, trying to force back his frustration, anger, anxiety, and impatience as he'd learned to do on his Uncle's farm.   
  
Funny how your perspective on things changes, he thought. How often had he longed for something more exciting during those years as a moisture farmer? How often had he sought adventure?  
  
Allowing his exhaustion to overtake him, he closed his eyes and whispered to himself, "Be careful what you wish for." Then he dropped off into an uneasy sleep. 


	15. Chapter 15

Hearts Are Meant To: Chapter 15  
  
  
Silence filled the small, stark room in the ship's brig as Genna glared blaster bolts across at the man standing in front of her. Wedge shifted uncomfortably, glancing toward her slight handcuffed form and then to Laire, the object of her wrath. He knew Laire had cause to suspect the Renegade pilot, but deep down in his gut, Wedge knew she was as innocent as he was in this whole matter. After all, one would expect an ex-Imperial to be knowledgeable about standard Imperial procedure, but that didn't necessarily mean that she was a traitor. If she was suspect, a good portion of the Alliance should be as well.  
  
As if to punctuate his thought, the door behind him suddenly opened and a familiar form was shoved beside him by two armed officers.  
  
"What the-" he gasped in horror.  
  
Tycho Celchu simply snarled at him, "Get these cuffs off me now, Wedge!"  
  
"You will address him as Commander Antilles," Laire warned.  
  
Tycho arched an eyebrow as he looked at Wedge darkly. "Oh, so they promoted you, now? Funny, I thought you were one of us."  
  
"It's just temporary," Wedge blurted guiltily, surprised to find his friend now under suspicion as well. He turned to Laire, indicating the binders on Tycho's wrists. "Can we get these off?"  
  
Laire ignored the question. "He is acting as commander of Rogue Squadron until we can determine Commander Skywalker's fate," he spoke coldly. "So for the time being, he is your superior officer, and must be addressed as such."  
  
"Really?" Tycho's pale eyes darted from Wedge to Laire and back. "Well, congratulations, Wedge. Laire, here, seems almost giddy to have Luke replaced." He looked back at Laire. "I'll bet you're just hoping against hope that Luke remains permanently MIA, aren't you?"  
  
"That will be enough, Celchu," Laire snarled.  
  
"Couldn't stand it that he had earned and gained more respect than you at such a young age," Tycho went on.  
  
"Tycho, please," Wedge pleaded quietly, knowing full well that his friend's temper was getting the better of him, and deservedly so. He didn't want him digging himself into a hole he couldn't get out of, however.  
  
"Or the fact that we Rogues are more loyal to him than-"  
  
"Tycho!" snapped Wedge, forcefully cutting him off and drawing Tycho's attention back to him and away from Laire.  
  
"You see what I mean about former Imperials?" he heard Laire's voice remark coldly. "Completely out of line."  
  
Wedge quickly bit back his own surge of anger and kept his eyes focused on Tycho while placing a restraining hand against the man's shoulder at his reaction to the Commander's words. Refusing to glance in Laire's direction, Wedge asked stiffly, "Sir, may we remove these binders? I can vouch for Celchu's loyalty."  
  
Laire's responding laugh was cold and derisive. "Absolutely not."  
  
At that, Wedge spun on him. "Sir, there is no just cause for restraining him. We're supposed to be fighting injustice, not inflicting it. Now I strongly insist that these binders be removed," he paused before overly emphasizing the final word, "Sir."  
  
Obviously taken aback by Wedge's sudden forcefulness, Laire only stared back at him for a moment. Then, without a word, he signaled to the two officers standing behind them. Wedge was momentarily relieved when the two guards proceeded to remove the cuffs.  
  
Tycho, however, avoided his gaze and focused instead upon the young woman in the corner. "Well, greetings, Cage. Fancy meeting you here."  
  
Genna only stared back, expressionless.  
  
"She hasn't spoken a word since she was taken into custody," Wedge explained quietly.  
  
Tycho grinned wryly and gave her a reassuring nod. "Good for you, Cage. Stars, I hate being right all the time."  
  
Wedge noted that he was rewarded with a slight grin from Genna, but she remained silent. When he looked back at Tycho, he was surprised to see that the man was once again staring back at him.  
  
"So why is she being questioned?" Tycho asked in a mock-whisper.  
  
Laire interjected, "That's none of your concern."  
  
In response, Wedge threw a sidelong glance at Laire before replying to Tycho's question. "They suspect her of being a spy, not that I agree with them."  
  
"Antilles!" bellowed Laire.  
  
Both Tycho and Wedge ignored him. "What gave them that idea?" Tycho pressed.  
  
"She said she suspected they were after someone, specifically Luke, based on her knowledge of Imperial procedure. Seconds later, the biggest ship I ever saw dropped out of hyperspace right on top of us."  
  
Tycho glanced over at Genna, then looked pointedly at Laire. "Oh, then by all means, she's certainly a spy."  
  
Wedge tried valiantly not to chuckle to himself as Laire turned red-faced and practically hollered, "Return to your quarters, Celchu!"  
  
Tycho responded with an exaggerated salute and a loud, "Yes, sir!" before spinning on his heels and marching out past the two stationed guards.  
  
Wedge could feel the color rising in his own cheeks as he fought hard against the laughter that was threatening to burst forth. Laire's voice sobered him.  
  
"Antilles, I don't tolerate disrespect or insubordination. I'm leaving it up to you to discipline that young man."  
  
Wedge's response was an incredulous, "Sir?"  
  
Laire refused to acknowledge his question as he turned toward Genna. "Now, let's find out what you truly know."  
  
  
*****  
  
  
Two hours later, Wedge strolled through the corridor toward Genna's holding cell, sipping one cup of caff and holding another in his hand. He winced slightly as the hot liquid ran down his throat. Only one more hour until they came out of hyperspace. Then, hopefully, this whole mess would be resolved. With any luck, Luke would be at the rendezvous point waiting for them, and all Laire's questionings would prove to be nothing more than the groundless suspicions Wedge believed they were.  
  
An hour ago, he'd stormed out of the cell. He'd had enough of Laire's demanding tone and insinuations, and he'd had enough of Genna's stubborn refusal to answer any of his questions. If she'd been a Rogue, it would have been a different story. But she wasn't, and she was completely out of his jurisdiction. So he left her alone to deal with Laire herself, while he found a half-dozen other things to do to bide his time. Of course, there was this annoying thing in Wedge's gut called a conscience, and it was pressing him now toward her cell with a fresh cup of caff and, hopefully, a bit of a reprieve from Laire. After all, stubborn or not, no one deserved to put up with him for that long. The man was insufferable.  
  
Reaching her door, he nodded to the guard stationed there and palmed it open. He blinked as he noticed that only Cage was in the room, still seated in the chair, but thankfully alone. She cradled her head wearily in her manacled hands.  
  
"Thank the stars," he murmured in response to Laire's absence.  
  
"Tell me about it," came the muffled reply before Cage brought her head up to look at him. Her eyes fell on the second cup in his hand. "Please tell me that's for me."  
  
Wedge nodded and handed her the cup. He grimaced as she reached up with her hands still bound together to take it. "I'd have them remove those for you, but Laire'd have a fit," he said in apology.  
  
She nodded as she sipped her caff. After swallowing, she responded, "I really detest that man."  
  
"I'm definitely going to have a long talk with Rieekan about him," Wedge agreed. "He's too suspicious for his own good. And too self-important to admit it."  
  
Caged arched an eyebrow at him over her cup of caff. "You sound as though you feel I shouldn't be in here."  
  
Wedge met her gaze. "Should you be?"  
  
Cage was silent for a moment, then she lowered her gaze and seemed to ponder her cup of caff. "You bugged, Antilles?"  
  
"Not that I'm aware of," he answered, a bit of an edge creeping into his voice at the implications of her question. What was she about to tell him?  
  
She picked up on the tone. "Relax, Antilles. I'm not a spy." She paused, still staring at her cup and swirling the liquid around. "I just haven't told you the whole story."  
  
Wedge leaned against the wall, eyeing her with a hard stare. "Then maybe you should."  
  
She sighed in response. "It's a long story. How much time do we have?"  
  
Wedge checked his chrono. "We come out of hyperspace in an hour, so you've got plenty of time. Spill."  
  
Cage gave him a wan smile, then took a deep breath. "I told Luke most of it, just not the parts that concern him."  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
"It's complicated," she said, looking up at him. "And it's a hard story to tell, so just be patient."  
  
Wedge grimaced. Patient? Here she was saying that her story involved Luke, his friend who was missing and apparently wanted by the Empire. And she expected him to be patient? "Go on," he grumbled.  
  
"Yeah," Genna breathed. "So, anyway, as you know, I was a pilot in the Imperial Navy. Right up until Alderaan. And it was like my whole universe had suddenly shattered and had been put back together all wrong. I was a mess, to put it lightly." She paused, and although her tone had been light, conversational, Wedge could hear the emotion simmering beneath the surface. "So there I was, an Imperial who had realized she was fighting on the wrong side of a war. And when that happens, you're lost, dead inside. And it doesn't take long for you realize you're not the only one. It was easy to spot the others, once you knew what to look for. There's that 'my life is a lie' look to the eyes that tips you off. Some of them jump ship first chance they get, others plot revenge. A bunch of us, we decided to take the lower road and sought vengeance immediately. We planted a bomb on the carrier, destroyed it along with our fellow pilots, those who had remained true to the Imperial cause. No remorse, instant gratification." She looked up into Wedge's pale face. "Sounds horrible, doesn't it?"  
  
He shifted where he leaned against the wall, feeling cold. "No," he whispered in reply. "A lot of us have been there." He just hadn't thought the pretty pilot had been one of them. "Continue."  
  
Genna nodded. "We fled, but we weren't thinking right at the time. We took off together, that was our first mistake. It didn't take long before we were captured. Our actions were deemed so outrageously traitorous that we were dealt with from the very top. I stood and watched as Vader choked the life out of my comrades one by one, leaving only three of us alive. Why he kept us alive, I don't know. But we were each then separated and. . . .punished for our crimes." She swallowed hard but continued right away, betraying little of her emotions. "I would have done anything to end it, by death or otherwise at that moment. Then Vader came to me with an out. I was given a mission for the Empire, one that I agreed to accomplish. I was ready to agree to anything. I was given the name of a rebel pilot I was supposed to gather information on. How I got that information was up to me, but that's all I was supposed to do. Seemed simple enough, so I accepted the mission. I wouldn't have to kill anyone, I wouldn't have to sabotage the Rebellion's efforts, and I wouldn't have to betray top-secret information. All I had to do was learn everything I could about one man."  
  
"Luke Skywalker," Wedge said coldly.  
  
Genna nodded.  
  
"Why?"  
  
"I don't know," she replied softly. "Could be the Death Star, but whatever it is, Vader wants him and wants him bad. That's how I knew when that Super Star Destroyer came out of hyperspace."  
  
Wedge growled at her, "And you led him straight to us!"  
  
"No, I didn't," Cage cried. "That's the problem. I haven't reported to Vader. I haven't told him anything . . .both because I haven't learned anything significant and because I wouldn't tell him if I did. Vader's mission got me into the Rebellion. But it's my heart and my conscience that's keeping me here! You can't honestly think that I'd tell him anything after what he did to my home! My family! Palpatine's little henchman wanted to use me! But instead I used him!"  
  
"Then how-"  
  
"There's someone else! Obviously, I wasn't alone in this mission. Or maybe Vader has had an operative working another angle. I don't know! All I do know is that there is someone on this ship who is working for the Empire! And it's not me!"  
  
Wedge stepped toward her. "Then who is it?"  
  
"I'm not sure," she sighed. "But I have my suspicions."  
  
Wedge shook his head. "Do you really expect me to believe all this?"  
  
"Antilles," she began, a plea in her voice, "what reason would I have to betray you? I know you care a lot about Luke, but you've got to believe me when I say I care about him, too. Granted, we didn't get off to the best start, but he's kinda' grown on me."  
  
Wedge chuckled slightly. "For an obnoxious farmboy, he does have that tendency, doesn't he?"  
  
"Definitely," she agreed, rising to her feet and holding her bound wrists imploringly. "So please believe me. There's an Imperial on this ship. We have to find out who it is and stop him before it's too late." 


	16. Chapter 16

Yes! There's more! :) Thanks to all you who have reviewed, especially Sianne. I'll try to post more frequently on this story. In the meantime, enjoy the next chapter or two.  
Hearts are Meant To: Chapter 16  
By Knight Mara  
  
  
A proximity alarm jerked Luke out of his doze. Blinking the sleepy haze out of his eyes, he glanced at his readouts, trying to get himself reoriented. According to the data scrolling across his screen, he was approaching Derra IV. Memories flooded back then. His mission, his encounter with the mammoth Star Destroyer, and his escape to lightspeed all hit him with crystalline clarity. Wearily shaking his head, he reached forward and brought his ship out of hyperspace. Genna's ship, he corrected himself as starlines became pinpoints once more. Derra IV floated peacefully in front of him, beckoning him to land. Never in all of his flights for the Alliance could he recall such a desperate urge to land an X-wing. Apparently, he'd been through too much for one day.  
  
Opening up a channel, he hailed the base below. "Base, this is Rogue Leader. Requesting permission to land." When he failed to get a response, he repeated, "Base, this is Rogue Leader. Do you copy?"  
  
"Copy that, Rogue Leader," an unfamiliar voice greeted him several panicked seconds later. "Where's the rest of your party?"  
  
"On their way," Luke replied, suppressing the urge to add, "I hope." He was sure they'd jumped to lightspeed as soon as he had, but in the heat of the moment he hadn't been able to tell. "We ran into some trouble and had to jump out of there," he added.  
  
"How bad?"  
  
"We'll soon see," Luke answered grimly. "Has Commander Narra arrived?"  
  
The voice that responded was instantly recognizable. "I'm right here, Luke. You say you boys had some trouble?"  
  
"Yes, sir," Luke said with a sigh. "As soon as I'm planetside, I'll be sure to tell you all about it."  
  
"Copy that," Narra agreed. "Proceed to 525 point 77."  
  
"Roger. And keep an eye out for the cruiser. They were right behind me." He then proceeded to maneuver the X-wing to the given coordinates. It wasn't long before he spotted the base, still partially under construction. Guiding the ship to the hangar bay, he was unaware he'd been holding his breath until he touched down. Almost as though he feared something else would happen before he got a chance to land. He shook his head reproachfully. Even after the nap he'd taken, he was still shaken up from his encounter. Why?  
  
With a weary sigh, he popped the canopy and climbed out of the ship. As soon as his feet hit the ground he heard the sound of running footsteps. He turned to see a young man he didn't recognize hurrying toward him.  
  
"Sir, Commander Narra sent me to get you," the young man panted. "He's in the Command Center."  
  
"I'll be right there," Luke replied, taking a moment to close the canopy of the ship. He saw a few techs approaching, nodded to them, and then turned his gaze on the young man. "After you," he said, gesturing for the man to lead him to the Command Center."  
  
"Yes, sir," the young man said before turning and leading Luke out of the hangar and through the cavernous maze of the new base.  
  
A few moments later, he entered the Command Center. Amid the bustling activity, he spotted Narra hunched over a console and made his way over to him.  
  
"Commander Narra," Luke addressed.  
  
Narra came up to look at him with a concerned expression. "Skywalker," he replied. "Laire's ship has just come out of hyperspace and should be landing shortly. They say they have one wounded and a traitor in captivity. Would you mind filling me in?"  
  
One wounded and one a traitor? What had transpired in the past four hours? Luke should his head, bewildered. "Sir, I can only tell you what I know, which is hazy at best."  
  
Narra nodded. "Well, why don't you start with why your squadron didn't arrive here right behind ours?"  
  
"That I can answer," Luke spoke, not even trying to hide the grimace on his face or the bitterness in his tone. "While en route, Laire got new orders to drop out of hyperspace for some diversionary tactic involving a lone Imperial cruiser."  
  
"Sounds foolhardy," snorted Narra.   
  
"We all agreed with that sentiment," Luke continued, "but Laire was not to be swayed. Said the order came from High Command, although now I'm not so sure. Turns out it was a trap."  
  
"Losses?"  
  
Luke sighed. "Well, to tell you the truth, I sorta knew something was up, so I told the Rogues to return to the hangar, since I didn't want them stuck out there with no hyperdrives. I took Gen---Cage's X-wing and headed out there alone, knowing I could jump to safety if things got bad."  
  
"And?" Narra pressed, now fully absorbed in Luke's tale as the younger man seemed to be growing more and more tense as the story was relayed.  
  
"It could have been very bad," concluded Luke stiffly. "An Imperial ship, one we've never seen before and several times the size of an ordinary Star Destroyer, came out of lightspeed as I was drifting there. As it was bearing down on me, I got the order to jump, so I did." He paused, looking downcast. "Cowardly, I know, but what's done is done."  
  
"I see," spoke Narra when he had finished. "Any idea what they were after."  
  
The clinical way in which Narra spoke to him now froze Luke's blood. Was the older man blaming him for what happened? Was he ashamed that Rogue Leader had run from the battle? Not wanting to give Narra any more doubts about his competency as a pilot and a leader, he weighed his answer. Swallowing hard, Luke lied, "No idea."  
  
Narra nodded at him. "Well then let's greet Laire and see if we can fill in all the missing pieces. Then, maybe we can get some answers as to what exactly happened up there."  
  
He turned and headed out of the Command Center, and Luke followed in his wake, his mind racing the whole time. One injured and one a traitor? He only hoped the situation would not turn out to be as bad as he feared. 


	17. Chapter 17

Hearts Are Meant To: Chapter 17  
By Knight Mara  
Handcuffed and guarded at blaster-point, Genna glared at the back of Laire's head as they strode through the hangar on Derra IV. She still had not spoken a word to him, but now her situation seemed grim. Wedge's hunt had turned up nothing in her favor. In fact, what he had found pointed the finger of guilt even more squarely at her than anything else. She cocked her head slightly to the side as a medical team rushed by with the battered body of Lieutenant Grey on a stretcher, his face unrecognizable beneath the oxygen mask. The young man had been found beaten bloody and shoved in a utility closet near the hangar bay. No one knew why he'd been singled out, but Laire suspected it was because he'd grown suspicious of Genna, and she'd arranged to put him out of commission for a while.  
  
Genna couldn't help but smile grimly at the irony. Grey had topped her own list of suspects.   
  
She heard a rush of footsteps and peered around the back of Laire's head to see who was approaching. Her heart sank when she saw Commander Narra moving swiftly at the front of a large group of men who were mostly blocked from her sight by Laire. She immediately saw his shock as his gaze fell on her, and she felt ill at the thought of what he might be thinking of her at this very moment. Thankfully, he turned his gaze to Laire.  
  
"Commander, is this your traitor?" he asked in a flat voice.  
  
"Indeed it is," Laire answered in a cold, self-important tone that made Genna's stomach turn.  
  
"What proof do you have?"  
  
Genna's already weak stomach turned to lead and her heart seemed to stop at the sound of the voice that had just growled the question. The moment seemed to freeze in time as a thousand thoughts coalesced in her mind. She hadn't seen him enter, hadn't even realized he was on Derra IV already. Oh stars, what would he think? Did he think she would really betray him? Her gaze fell upon her shoes and remained there for fear of seeing his face at this moment. The sight of Narra's shocked expression had been enough for her. She wouldn't be able to handle the sight of Luke Skywalker at this moment.   
  
Laire's angry reply startled her. "How dare you question me, Skywalker! You are certainly in no position. After you deliberately disobeyed my orders. ...Officers! I move to charge him with insubordination, conduct unbe-"  
  
"You'll do no such thing!" Narra shouted back.  
  
"Who gave the order, Laire?" Luke yelled simultaneously.   
  
Laire stiffened. "What?"  
  
Luke pressed on. "Who gave you the order to drop us out of hyperspace in front of that cruiser? Who was it Laire?"  
  
"I don't have to answer to you!"  
  
"Oh, don't you?"  
  
Genna's curiosity got the better of her and she glanced upward to peer beyond Laire at the group of men facing him. She gasped in shock. Narra's face was hard and commanding, staring Laire down with a coldness that demanded answers. Luke, on the other hand, was flushed with fury. She'd seen the fire in him when he'd first confronted Narra about the mission, but that was nothing compared to what she saw now. Something had happened out there. Something had fueled an anger in him that was close to being unleashed upon Laire. And the stuffy commander was not making matters any better for himself.  
  
"Narra," Laire snapped, "get him out of here."  
  
At that, Luke pushed forward until he was an inch away from Laire, the magnitude of his rage making his small frame appear menacing. Narra, probably fearing some rash move, grabbed Luke's arm to stop him from advancing any further. A look at Luke's face told Genna that Narra needn't have worried. Although he was furious, he was still in control.  
  
Glaring into Laire's eyes, Luke continued. "I'm not going anywhere until you tell me who gave you that order. I want to know who it was who tried to get me killed or captured by the Empire! I want to know who gave you those coordinates! I want to know who decided the Rogues were expendable enough to send out there with no hyperdrives just so the Empire could have my hide! Who was it, Laire?"  
  
"I don't know what you're talking about," Laire snarled.  
  
Narra stepped forward, "That's enough."  
  
"Who was it?" Luke growled in a whisper.  
  
"I said that's enough," Narra repeated, more forcefully this time and shooting Luke with a harsh gaze.  
  
Genna watched his jaw muscles twitch as Luke's eyes continued to bore into Laire for a moment before he finally took a step back.  
  
Narra turned from him and saluted a man who now approached the group. "General," he said in address.  
  
General? Genna looked at the man who had just entered the hangar. His brown hair was peppered with grey, and his dark brown eyes surveyed the scene with discerning clarity. He was not a man to be taken lightly, of that Genna was certain. As she continued to stare at him, he spoke.  
  
"Gentlemen," he said, his voice rich and deep, "I trust there is a good explanation for all of this." He gestured at the group, and to Narra, Skywalker, and Laire in particular.   
  
Laire straightened and saluted. "General Fen, perhaps you would intervene?"  
  
Genna threw a panicked glance at the General, who only arched an eyebrow at Laire.  
  
"In what matter?" Fen asked.  
  
Laire tried to draw himself up even further as he replied, "Young Skywalker here thinks he can question my orders."  
  
"When they jeopardize the lives of my men, I think I'm entitled!" Luke shot back.  
  
Fen turned to Luke. "Skywalker, was it?"  
  
Luke looked away from Laire long enough to nod to Fen. "Yes, sir."  
  
Fen scrutinized the young pilot. "Skywalker, is it true that you challenge the orders of a superior officer?"  
  
"No, sir," Luke answered, calming himself. "I question the validity of those orders as it appears they lead us into an Imperial trap."  
  
Laire interrupted, "The traitor in question is right here! Why not ask her about the orders?"  
  
"General, sir, if I may speak?" a voice called from behind Genna.  
  
She turned her head to see Wedge Antilles stride forward with Tycho Celchu at his side. Both saluted the General and waited solemnly for his reply.  
  
"And you would be?" Fen asked.  
  
"Acting Commander of Rogue Squadron, Wedge Antilles, sir," Wedge replied, meeting Luke's shocked gaze just long enough to assure him that this was all Laire's doing.   
  
Fen arched an eyebrow and spoke, "Go ahead, Antilles."  
  
"I'd like to speak with you privately, sir, about information revealed to me in confidence by the accused traitor, Ms. Genna Cage," Wedge requested.  
  
Genna didn't think anything could drown the sound of her own heart thudding in her ears. Laire's voice managed to do it, however.  
  
"You can't be serious!" he exclaimed. "She confided in you, Antilles?"  
  
"Commander," Fen remarked to Laire sternly, silencing the irate man. He then returned his attention to Wedge. "Antilles, I'd like to see you in my office right away, along with Commander Narra."  
  
"Sir," Wedge added, "I'd like to request Skywalker's presence as well, as this concerns him."  
  
Genna looked over at Luke who was meeting her gaze for the first time since her arrival. His expression held both confusion, fear, and doubt. She wished she could speak to him, to tell him what she'd told Wedge, but she knew Laire would somehow twist it into more incriminating evidence of her betrayal. And right now, it didn't seem she would be let out of Laire's custody long enough for her to say anything out of the obnoxious man's hearing. Grimacing at her own powerlessness, she tried to reassure Luke wordlessly.  
  
Then Laire intervened. "And what of me?" he demanded.  
  
"You," Fen replied, coldness evident in his tone for the first time, "will remain with your crew. I'd like to have Cage escorted to a holding cell here on the base."   
  
Ignoring Laire's incredulous expression, Fen gestured to two of his officers who approached Genna and took their places at her side. Genna felt relief for the first time since she'd been accused, gladly relinquishing the presence of Laire's guards.  
  
"Let's go," Fen ordered curtly, and ushered those he would be meeting with out of the hangar. Falling in step beside Genna as her new guards urged her to follow, he murmured, "That man tries even my patience."  
  
Genna couldn't help but smile at his words and the sounds of Laire's complaints behind her fading into the background.  
* * * * * * *  
Pressing the tips of his fingers to his temples, Luke let out a deep breath and sank even further into the chair he occupied in Fen's office. Having a gut feeling that the Dark Lord of the Sith was after you was one thing. Having it confirmed was something entirely different. After all, he'd expected to wind up on the Empire's "Most Wanted" list after Yavin; but he'd never expected to become the pet prey of the Empire's most fearsome henchman. It was a lot more than he was ready to handle at the moment.  
  
"You're sure about this?" he asked softly, as though fearing the reply.  
  
Wedge nodded at him solemnly from his seat beside him. "She was telling the truth, I'm sure of it. I mean, why else would she tell me all of this if not to protect you?"  
  
"She could be trying to throw us off," General Fen suggested, leaning forward and resting his elbows upon his polished desk. "Maybe she wants us focused on Skywalker here and away from what the Empire is really after."  
  
Luke shook his head. "No," he whispered. "No, Vader was on that ship."  
  
Fen leaned forward even further. "How do you know?"  
  
Luke looked up at him and caught his scrutinizing gaze. Feeling suddenly trapped, he rose from his seat and paced behind it. As he wiped beads of sweat from his brow, he realized he was reacting foolishly to all of this, but he couldn't seem to be able to keep his emotions in check. In truth, he was terrified. And not just because of Vader's hunt. He was terrified of the stirrings in the Force he'd felt out there, stirrings that had told him, without a doubt, that Vader was on that ship and hunting him personally. He'd never experienced anything of that magnitude or clarity before. Hours had been spent trying to control the Force, to move objects, to sense other people. But never had the Force flowed so freely through him, and he didn't know why it had happened. He hadn't even been able to control it.  
  
Realizing that Fen, Wedge, and Narra were all staring at him in concern, he stopped his pacing and said as steadily as he could, "Something told me he was there. I knew it was him on that ship."  
  
"A Force thing?" asked Wedge after a moment.  
  
As Luke nodded to him, Fen jerked in puzzlement. "Force thing?"  
  
Narra explained, "Luke's father was a Jedi Knight. It's one of the reasons he's such an amazing pilot."  
  
Rubbing the back of his neck to ease some of his own tension, Wedge added, "Genna told me herself that the Executor is Vader's flagship. More than likely, Luke's little hunch is correct."  
  
There was a long period of silence before Luke muttered, "Ben Kenobi told me that Vader hunted and killed all of the Jedi, including my father." Leaning heavily against the back of his chair, he added, "Maybe he's just trying to finish the job."  
  
Narra interrupted, "But Cage said that she was given strict instructions not to harm you, just to gather information about you." He exchanged puzzled glances with the other men, before suggesting, "Maybe he isn't really sure you have Jedi potential. Maybe he's just trying to gather as much info on the young pilot who destroyed the Death Star in order to make you pay for it personally."  
  
Luke shivered at that thought. "That's comforting."  
  
"Well," said Fen, shifting back into his seat, "I think we should question Cage about it a bit more about all this, although, like you, I'm fairly certain she's not here to betray us. Laire's got it all wrong, as usual."  
  
"I'll say," murmured Wedge under his breath before noticing the harsh glare from Fen.  
  
"His shortcoming, Antilles, is that he fails to take into consideration that most of us have checkered pasts," Fen went on, "Imperial pasts most commonly. If it were up to him, we'd all be traitors. But it only serves to illustrate just how truly devoted to the Alliance's cause he is. Take him with a grain of salt, and accept him for the sometimes-intolerant man he can be. He's a good leader."  
  
Luke snorted. "With all due respect, what good leader can't tell a genuine order from a falsified one?"  
  
Fen held up a hand, "We don't know that the order was falsified yet. It could have, indeed, come from Alliance High Command. They may have received some other bit of information leading them to that particular course of action. At this moment, we don't really know. But don't be too hasty to place the blame solely on Laire. I suspect he was acting capably."  
  
"In any event," Narra broke in, "we all need to keep our eyes open and stay on our toes. I, for one, don't want one of my best pilots winding up in the hands of the Empire."  
  
Fen nodded in agreement, while Luke shifted uncomfortably.  
  
Wedge, however, chuckled slightly. "Thanks for saying one of the best instead of the best," he joked to Narra. "I'd hate to be slighted to my face."  
  
In response to his words Narra laughed and rose, patting Wedge on the shoulder as he did so. "And this, gentlemen, is why we keep Antilles, here, around." He then turned to Luke who was grinning at Wedge's remark. "Well, Skywalker, how do you want to handle this on your end?"  
  
Luke sobered. "I'd like to talk to Cage myself, if that's permissible."  
  
"Indeed it is," responded Fen. "As long as you control that temper of yours."  
  
Luke winced at his remark. "Believe me, I only want to talk. I think all my anger and frustration was spent on Laire."  
  
At that, Fen laughed heartily. "That I'll believe!" 


	18. Chapter 18

Hearts Are Meant To: Chapter 18  
By Knight Mara  
  
Warning: Must alert! :)  
  
  
  
  
Time seems to function erratically during periods of incarceration. And so it was that Genna had no idea how long she'd been in the tiny cell on Derra IV. For a while her thoughts and worries had kept her occupied as she stretched out on the small hard bunk against the wall. However, inevitable boredom eventually set in. That boredom, combined with the sheer emotional exhaustion the day had wrought, finally lulled her into a strange and uneasy sleep, during which she was peripherally aware of time passing, but nothing more.  
  
It was from this state, sometime later, that she suddenly jerked upright into full awareness. Someone was watching her. Spinning to face her intruder, she came face to face with a very familiar pair of blue eyes. She gasped involuntarily.  
  
"Luke?" she breathed as she tried to get her bearings. She slid away from him until her back was pressed firmly against the wall, not knowing why he was here or what he would say.  
  
Luke sat on the edge of her bunk and lowered his gaze. "You know, you grind   
your teeth in your sleep," he commented tonelessly.  
  
Numbly, Genna replied, "Only when I'm tense."  
  
Still not looking at her, he nodded his head.   
  
For a while, neither said anything as Genna pondered Luke's effort to break the tension between them. It hadn't worked. Not knowing what else to do, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "I'm sorry about all this," she whispered.  
  
"All I want to know is," Luke's voice responded, "why didn't you tell me about any of this earlier?"  
  
She opened her eyes to meet his questioning gaze and felt her throat go suddenly dry. Taking another deep breath to steady her nerves, she resolved to answer truthfully. "At first, I thought it wouldn't matter how I got here, so long as I was a part of the Rebellion. Secondly, I never thought any of this would end up out in the open. I mean, who was gong to find out that I had been sent by the Empire to do a job I had no intention of doing? And last," she paused, hoping he wouldn't take this the wrong way, "I was worried about how you'd handle being more personally hunted by the Empire than you realized."  
  
In response to this, Luke looked down at his feet and grinned wryly. "Yeah, well I guess I have been rather shaken up by this. I'd really prefer not to know, to be totally honest." He was silent for a moment. "But since I do know," he continued, "I need you to tell me everything you can."   
  
"I've already told Wedge everything I know," Genna explained. "I was simply given a name and orders to find out as much information about that person as I could. In truth, I didn't even realize the name belonged to the hero of Yavin until that evening in your room when we talked. It was only then that I realized that Vader must be seeking revenge."  
  
"So that's why you joked that the Empire was wasting its resources looking for a pilot who made a lucky shot," Luke realized.  
  
"I wanted to see if you were aware that you were wanted by the Empire," Genna explained.  
  
"Well, I've been well aware of that for the last two years," said Luke, "but this is just a bit different. Don't you think?"  
  
"That's why I didn't say anything else about it," she argued. "I didn't see the sense in getting your nerves rattled because Darth Vader was personally after your hide as opposed to your simply being on the same most wanted list along with Organa and the others."  
  
"But he never even hinted why he was after me?"   
  
Genna shook her head. "No, not at all," she answered, then studied his features for a moment. "Why, do you have suspicions of your own?"  
  
Luke shrugged, a gesture that belied his true seriousness. "I was told that my father was betrayed and murdered by Vader, who had also been a Jedi knight at one time. My guess is that Vader may have sensed my presence in the Force, recognized my name, and resolved to finish the job of eliminating all Jedi and potential Jedi he had started twenty years ago. After all, why go through all the trouble to exterminate all the Jedi to have one pop up in the Rebel Alliance that's fighting you?"  
  
Genna stared at him for a moment. "You really think that might be it?"  
  
"Makes as much sense as any," he answered. His mood visibly darkened. "Of course, it's a waste of time. I'll never be a Jedi."  
  
Genna grimaced, bitterness rising in her throat as her own "nevers" rose to the surface. The true price she would have to pay for revealing the truth to Wedge hit her, and she stared down at her lap and away from his eyes. "Well, right now you have more chance of becoming a Jedi than I have at flying for the Alliance."  
  
"That's not true," she heard Luke say.  
  
She looked back up at him, challenging him. "Tell me, what do the others think about this whole business?"  
  
"Wedge and Narra think you're innocent," he answered, a bit of hesitancy in his voice.  
  
"And General Fen?"  
  
Luke was quiet for a moment before answering, "He suspects you might be trying to throw us off, but admits you're probably innocent."  
  
"But I'm still grounded," she countered.  
  
"Temporarily," admitted Luke.  
  
"Wonderful," Genna spat, rising to her feet and pacing in the tiny cell, emotions held in check all day now bubbling to the surface. "So because of this, I can't do what I actually joined the Alliance to do! I can't fight against the Empire! I can't make them pay for what they did to my home! I can't do anything except sit here and try to defend myself against these blasted accusations when I should be blasting TIEs into oblivion!"  
  
"Genna," Luke tried to soothe, getting up to face her.  
  
"No, Luke," she shot back, "you don't understand! I'm a pilot! It's what I do! It's who I am! It's all I have left! And now it's gone! Don't you get it?"  
  
His hands were suddenly on her shoulders, steadying her as she realized she was panting and sobbing and losing her fragile control of her emotions by the second. "It's only temporary," he said gently.  
  
She pulled away and turned around, her back to him. "That's not true, and you know it."  
  
Again his hands were on her shoulders, tentatively trying to calm her down. "You'll fly with the Renegades again, I promise," she heard him say.   
His words shattered what little emotional control she had left, and she began to tremble beneath his gentle touch as tears poured down her face and her breath came in huge shuddering gasps. She suddenly felt as though her entire world had come crashing down on top of her, trapping her within the rubble that remained. It was over, even as the man behind her was trying to reassure her that it wasn't. The man she'd been sent to spy upon. The man who wasn't supposed to be comforting her.  
  
"We'll clear your name," he was saying. "We'll find out who the real traitor is anyway. We have to. Don't worry."  
  
Disbelieving, she turned to face him. "Luke," she sobbed, "how in the universe can you trust me? You, of all people, should hate me right now. You were right, I'm nothing but bad luck!"  
  
Chuckling slightly, Luke took her face in his hands. "You may be bad luck," he said softly, "but I trust you."  
  
"Why?"  
  
Luke's mouth curved upward with a slight shrug of his shoulders. "I don't know. Will of the Force, maybe. But I know I can trust you, and I'll help you in any way that I can." He smiled a genuine smile then, his thumbs gently stroking the skin on her cheeks. And suddenly, awkwardly but gently, his lips were on hers.   
  
Her eyes fluttered closed as a rush of sensations assaulted her in a fraction of a second. But before her shocked consciousness could register the fact that he was kissing her, the moment was over.   
  
"I'll be back later," he whispered against her cheek.  
  
Dazed, she opened her eyes in time to see him slip out of the door to her cell. Knees suddenly weak, she sank down upon the bunk. She could still feel the tingle of his trembling lips against hers, could still taste him there. It had been a clumsy kiss, to be sure. But it now left her pondering the strange new turn their journey had just taken. 


	19. Chapter 19

A/N A great big "Thank You" goes to all who have reviewed, and my sincerest apologies for making you wait for so long. I really didn't mean to leave this hanging for so long! Thanks for sticking with it!  
  
  
Hearts Are Meant To: Chapter 19  
  
By Knight Mara  
  
As he made his way toward the infirmary where Narra and Fen were waiting to question Lieutenant Grey, Luke Skywalker found himself seriously questioning his sanity. What in the universe had possessed him to suddenly, and awkwardly, kiss Genna Cage? He'd never done anything so forward in his life, and he wondered if Han's Corellian influence was starting to affect him. If so, it hadn't affected him enough, because he hadn't even stayed around long enough to see her reaction. He hadn't wanted to see it. What if she saw him as a foolish, clumsy farmboy? Or worse, what if Genna regarded the feelings that had led him to kiss her as either simply amusing or downright pathetic? Shaking his head and trying to calm his racing heart, he resolved not to think about it now. There were more pressing matters to deal with, such as trying to get Genna's name cleared of these accusations. His only hope right now was that Grey could at least verify that Genna had not been the one to attack him.   
  
His hopes appeared to be shattered when he entered the infirmary and saw the grim faces of Narra, Fen, and Laire.  
  
He skidded to a halt. "What is it?" he asked, although he felt he already knew the answer.  
  
Narra confirmed his fears. "Grey's dead, Luke," he said solemnly. "Cerebral hemorrhage."   
  
Luke went cold as hope vanished with the life of yet another Rebel. He barely felt someone grasp his hand firmly, but when he noticed it, he was shocked to see that it had been Laire who had made the gesture. Luke stared at him for a moment in disbelief.  
  
Laire spoke first. "I want to apologize, Skywalker, for my behavior earlier today. Especially since I was very wrong." When Luke frowned in confusion, he continued. "Moments ago, when I arrived, Grey briefly regained consciousness, and confessed. He was the Imperial operative, not Ms. Cage."  
  
As Luke processed the words, numerous questions rushed to the surface. "Who attacked him?"  
  
Narra answered, "A second operative who wished to leave no loose ends, apparently. Grey identified him as a fellow named Nil who was posing as a tech, although we haven't been able to confirm it."  
  
"However," added Fen, "we checked the ship's records, and there was an escape pod that was launched a few seconds before the cruiser jumped to lightspeed."  
  
"So you think he got away?" Luke asked.  
  
"Indeed," Fen replied, "it seems fairly certain that he did."  
  
"Gentlemen," interrupted Laire, "now I must go and release Genna Cage from custody and apologize to her as well." He saluted Fen, and added, "I will meet with you later, General."  
  
Fen nodded to him, and Luke watched him leave.  
  
"At least that situation is resolved," Narra commented.  
  
Luke turned to him, his mind still reeling. "Yes, but if the second Imperial agent got away, that means the Empire knows we're here."  
  
"Indeed it does, Skywalker," agreed Fen. "It is unfortunate, but true."  
  
"So what are we going to do?"  
  
"Our manufacturing facilities are well underground, so they should be quite safe and undetectable for the time being," he replied. "However, the base will have to be evacuated as soon as possible."  
  
"How soon?" asked Narra.  
  
Fen sighed. "By this time tomorrow, this base will be only a memory."  
  
"And what about Ithull?" Luke pressed. If an agent had returned to the Empire with information about Derra IV, Luke figured they'd have the location of the Ithull base as well. He was pretty certain of that.  
  
"We just received word from Ithull," the general answered. "They're preparing to evacuate and relocate to the Hoth system."  
  
Narra threw Luke a sympathetic look before asking, "How soon?"  
  
"I'm not sure," Fen replied with complete honesty. "We'll have to wait until we meet up with the fleet to be sure."  
  
"I understand, General," Narra said. Then he turned to Luke. "Commander Skywalker, gather the Rogues and meet in room 27 in one hour."  
  
"Yes, sir," Luke responded, giving Narra and Fen a final nod each before walking out of the infirmary.  
  
The Alliance was on the run again. 


	20. Chapter 20

Hearts Are Meant To: Chapter 20  
  
By KnightMara  
  
Genna looked up quickly from her seat on the hard bunk as the door to her cell slid open. Half-expecting Luke to walk back in, she was surprised to see Laire standing in the doorway instead. She valiantly fought the urge to groan.  
  
"Genna Cage," Laire began, his tone much more pleasant than she had ever heard it before, "I am here to apologize to you for your wrongful incarceration, and to let you know that all charges against you have been dropped."  
  
It took her a moment to realize what he had just said, and even then, she wasn't sure she'd heard him correctly. "Sir?"  
  
"You are free to rejoin the Renegades," Laire said with a smile.  
  
Genna could hardly contain her relief and excitement. She quickly rose to her feet. "Thank you, sir!"   
  
He acknowledged her thanks and said, "If you'll follow me, we have to go to the offices one level down to complete all the appropriate documentation."  
  
"Yes, sir," she replied, following him out of the cell and toward the lift. "I'm a little surprised at how swift that was," she added as they waited beside the lift.  
  
"New evidence came to light," he explained. "That must be a relief to you."  
"Of course," she answered.  
  
The lift arrived, and Laire gestured for her to step inside. "Must feel good to be free again," he commented as he stepped in after her.  
  
"It does," agreed Genna as the doors closed. The lift began to descend.  
  
A fraction of a second later, she felt herself slammed against the wall as the lift jerked to a halt. Before she could piece together what had happened, she was pinned against the wall with a vibroblade at her throat, fearfully staring into Laire's mad eyes.  
  
"How do you feel now, Cage?" he hissed.  
  
Between the terror of being held at knifepoint and the throbbing in her left temple from where it had made violent contact with the wall, it took her a few seconds to respond. At last she stammered, "Oh stars, oh stars, you're the tr-"  
  
She was cut off when stars exploded in her skull as her head was rammed backward into the steel panel of the lift. When her vision cleared, all she saw was Laire's mocking smile.   
  
"Treason is such an ugly word," he sneered. "I prefer to think of it as broadening my operational parameters. For a price, of course."  
  
Genna bit her lip to keep from whimpering as Laire's grip tightened and the blade inched closer to her throat.   
  
"Now, as I understand it, you were given specific orders, Cage," he continued, "orders which you blatantly disobeyed. Lord Vader has not been pleased."  
  
"I-" she began in a faltering voice, overcome with terror, but was silenced again by another shove into the wall. This time she cried out in pain.  
  
"He does not like having his patience tested, my dear," Laire went on, ignoring her cry. "When you failed to deliver the information you were sent to retrieve, I was ordered to deliver Skywalker directly to him, while arranging the evidence to look like you had betrayed the Rebellion. But of course, we all know how that little operation turned out."  
  
Again, pain erupted from the back of her head as it was rammed into the wall once more. Her vision blurred, but Laire's voice and tight grip kept her conscious.   
  
"Failure is punished, Cage," he said in a deadly whisper, his face mere centimeters from her own as he slowly, deliberately raised the vibroblade between them.  
  
She squeezed her eyes shut, knowing pleas would be useless but too terrified to boldly face her own death. She didn't want to die. Not now.  
  
But instead of the bite of the vibroblade, she felt Laire's breath against her cheek as he said, "Grey is dead, Cage. I believe you knew him once. You graduated from the academy together, did you not?"  
  
Her eyes opened in shock. Stunned realization hit her as she finally placed Grey's face in her memory. They'd been friends once. She remembered that now. Now that he was dead.  
  
Laire spoke again as soon as he saw the look of recognition on her face. "Would it surprise you to know that he was innocent? Poor fool was too suspicious for his own good. His curiosity led him to be in the wrong place at the wrong time, and I'm afraid he has paid the ultimate price." He paused, letting his words sink in as Genna trembled violently in his grasp.   
  
She was losing whatever fight she had left. She knew she had lost as terror held her hostage in its unrelenting grip even as Laire held her in his.  
  
"You, on the other hand, are far from innocent. You were ordered to gather information on one Luke Skywalker. You were told to find out his personal history, family, place of birth, medical history-"  
  
"But I did!" Genna shrieked frantically.  
  
The vibroblade advanced again as he demanded, "Such as?"  
  
When she hesitated, he pressed the tip of the blade into her chin, drawing a small thread of blood before she stammered rapidly, "He's from Tatooine. Raised by moisture farmers. Both of his parents are dead. His father was a Jedi, but Skywalker never knew him."  
  
Laire lowered the blade a fraction. "Very good, Cage," he said with a menacing smile. "You've managed to find out as much information as the rest of the Rebellion knows."  
  
Genna swallowed frantically, not knowing how to reply.  
  
Again, the blade was brought back to her chin as Laire pinned her even more firmly against the wall of the lift. "I don't think you understand, Cage. I want you to get close to Skywalker. I want you to find out just who he is! Information," he paused, the tip of the blade slowly sliding down the exposed skin of her neck, "that only a woman can obtain."  
  
"Genna shuddered. "No," she breathed raggedly.  
  
"You don't have a choice in the matter," Laire growled. "That is, unless you want to be responsible for the deaths of your two fellow conspirators, the ones who are in Lord Vader's captivity as we speak, and whose very lives depend on your ability to follow orders."  
  
"No, please," she choked. This couldn't be happening.  
  
"If you fail," Laire explained, tightening his grip on her with each word, "they die. And you live a long and horrific life in the spice mines of Kessel."  
  
Knowing she had lost, Genna sagged against the wall, tears flowing down her cheeks. "Why?" she sobbed.  
  
"The reasons are of no importance, Cage," Laire hissed into her ear. "Only the commands. You've been given your orders. The rest is up to you."  
  
With that, he released her and sheathed the blade as he simultaneously handed her a cloth with which to dab her chin. His face was once again the picture of perfectly constructed arrogance.  
  
Genna blinked at him. "Who are you?" she asked in a broken whisper.  
  
Laire raised an eyebrow at her and responded casually, "Just a Commander in the Rebel forces; but I'm also a man with a price. Rebel commands do not pay well, I'm afraid. Not as well as an Empire can."   
  
"But your fervor? Your zealous hatred of the Empire?"  
  
"Come now, Cage," Lair replied menacingly. "You, of all people, should know how to play a part." He paused, running a critical eye over her as he reached toward the button that would restart the lift. "Now make yourself presentable, Ms. Cage. It's time for you to play your part." 


	21. Chapter 21

A/N Once again, thanks for the reviews! I am flattered that you have taken to this story. . . . really, and truly flattered. I hope you continue to enjoy it as much as I have enjoyed writing it.  
  
Hearts are Meant To-Chapter 21  
  
By KnightMara  
  
"What's wrong?" Wedge asked, watching Luke as he walked down the hallway toward him.  
  
Luke paused a second before replying, "We're evacuating the base."  
  
"What?"  
  
"And Ithull, too," Luke added.  
  
Wedge could hear his heart thudding in his ears as Luke spoke. They were on the run again? "What happened?"  
  
"Grey was our spy," Luke answered. "But there was a second, the one who killed him and escaped. They know our location."  
  
"So all this was for nothing then?" Wedge remarked bitterly. They'd risked a lot to establish this base. And for what? To be on the move again?  
  
"The manufacturing plant is underground in the Eastern Hemisphere, so that stays," replied Luke. "With the heavy shielding those rocks provide, even sensors wouldn't pick it up. If the Empire decides to visit Derra IV, all they'll find is an abandoned half-constructed base in the Western Hemisphere. I doubt they'd waste their time snooping around more than they feel they have to."  
  
"So we'll still be getting our replacement ships?"  
  
"Hopefully."  
  
Wedge sighed. "We need another victory," he said quietly. "Bad."  
  
"I hear ya', Wedge," Luke agreed with a nod. Drawing a deep breath to change the subject, he asked, "Have you seen Genna around?"  
  
Wedge was momentarily startled. "She's out?"  
  
"Yeah, Grey confessed. No sense keeping her locked up," he said, shrugging his shoulders.  
  
As he spoke, Wedge watched him closely, narrowing his eyes at him when he stopped.  
  
"What?" Luke asked, noting Wedge's stare.  
  
"You're speaking in that too-casual tone," Wedge answered with a sly grin. "Something happened between you and Genna, didn't it?"  
  
"No," Luke responded, too quickly.  
  
Wedge burst out laughing. "I knew it! So tell me, was it a good something or a bad something?"  
  
"Wedge, please," Luke pleaded before his eyes suddenly moved to stare at something just past Wedge's shoulder, and he stiffened abruptly.  
  
Wedge spun around to see what it was that had affected Luke so strangely. And there, walking toward them, was the object of their conversation herself. Seeing Luke, she paused mid-step and seemed to tense as well.  
  
"Hey, Genna," Wedge called to her, hoping to ease the tension. "They decided to spring you at last, huh?"  
  
"Yeah," she answered tonelessly, shifting her gaze to Wedge. "Thanks for all your help, Antilles."  
  
"Don't mention it," he responded, wondering what exactly had transpired between Genna and Luke to warrant such awkwardness between them.  
  
He watched as Genna's eyes glanced from Luke to Wedge and back again uncertainly. Finally she spoke, "Well, I'll see you guys at the meeting." And with that, she walked past them and turned down another corridor.  
  
Wedge, baffled turned to Luke who stared after her. "You didn't go and say something stupid about her former ties to the Imps, did you?"  
  
"No," Luke blurted before spinning around and weakly driving his fist against the wall. Wincing at the pain, he groaned, "I knew this would happen."  
  
Now very concerned for his friend, Wedge crossed the corridor to lean upon the wall Luke had just abused. "Force sake, Luke, what happened?"  
  
Luke's response was muffled as he rested his forehead in his hands.  
  
"What was that?" Wedge pressed.  
  
Exasperated, Luke looked up at the ceiling. "I kissed her, okay?"  
  
"You what?" This was hardly typical Luke Skywalker behavior.  
  
"I know it was stupid," Luke lamented. "I just don't know what came over me. It was like my mind had nothing to do with it. Suddenly I was kissing her. Then my brain caught up, I panicked, and I left before I could see her reaction. Apparently, either the kiss or the leaving was a mistake. And judging from the way she acted just now, I'm afraid it was the former."  
  
Wedge fought to suppress the smile that wanted to creep on his face at his friend's sudden boldness, and his apparent difficulty in handling the aftermath. Moments like these explained why Solo was so fond of calling him "kid." In so many ways, Luke was innocent and inexperienced, making Wedge feel years older. "Relax, Luke," he finally said, somehow managing to keep a straight face. "If a girl doesn't like you, they generally let you know. They're pretty good at that, and typically, they're blunt and cruel. They live by the motto that hearts were meant to be broken, and they're referring to men's hearts, not their own."  
  
Wedge was rewarded with a wry smile from Luke. "Interesting perspective," the young commander muttered.  
  
"Comes from experience," Wedge explained with a shrug. "The fact that Cage said nothing to you and seemed very uncomfortable tells me she's torn somehow. I mean, the way she acted, I thought you'd done something to hurt her feelings."  
  
"Like leaving too soon after the kiss?" interrupted Luke.  
  
"Maybe. I doubt it was the kiss itself."  
  
"So I should go talk to her?"  
  
"It's a start," Wedge answered with a slap on the shoulder. "Now, what's this about a meeting."  
  
Wedge watched in amazement as Luke suddenly became the commander of Rogue Squadron once more. "Gather the Rogues," he informed Wedge. "There's a meeting in room 27 regarding the evacuation."  
  
"Got it," Wedge said with a nod. "I'll get the Rogues, you talk to Cage." When Luke arched a disbelieving eyebrow at him, Wedge added, "Do it. I don't like working with a mopey commander."  
  
Shaking his head but smiling nonetheless, Luke took off down the corridor after Genna. 


	22. Chapter 22

Hearts Are Meant To-Chapter 22 By KnightMara  
  
Propelling her feet as quickly as they would carry her, Genna rushed toward the sanctuary of the Renegades. She hadn't expected to run into Luke so soon, though she should have. After all, he was in command of the Rogues, he was close to Narra, and, stars, he was the man who had kissed her unexpectedly in her cell not too long ago! Did she think he'd just disappear for a while? Now that she was being watched, being forced to carry out her duty to the Empire? As she continued to speed through the corridors, she tried to be rational, to regain some emotional control. After all, it wasn't as though she was being asked to kill him or hand him over to Vader personally. She was only supposed to gather information. How hard could that be? And what if something happened to Laire? Then she wouldn't have to worry about whether she did her job or not.  
  
She stopped, a sudden wave of dizziness informing her that she was hyperventilating. Leaning against the wall in an attempt to control her breathing, her mind drifted toward those who were counting on her to do her job. Those whose lives depended on its completion. She couldn't let them down, couldn't let them die. But what if Laire was lying? What if they were already dead? What if it was a trick to get her to do her job? Her mind clouded with questions as she fought to breathe normally. She wasn't succeeding. Her hands were going numb and her light-headedness was intensifying. She was going to faint if she didn't get this under control. She slid down the wall, figuring it would be easier to concentrate on breathing if she didn't have to worry about standing. Unfortunately, that didn't work either.  
  
Amidst tunnel vision, she saw a pair of brown boots in front of her and felt a pair of hands on her shoulders, pushing her forward so that her head rested between her knees. "Take deep slow breaths," a distant voice instructed her.  
  
"Can't," she gasped, staring at the floor and feeling like she was suffocating.  
  
"Yes, you can," the voice insisted, "or you're going to faint."  
  
Frantically, she tried to draw slow, deep breaths, but found that she was still breathing far too rapidly. She didn't want to faint. She wasn't the fainting type. She tried again.  
  
"Here," the voice instructed, grasping her wrists and drawing her palms to her face. "Cup your hands over your mouth and nose tightly. Or wait," the voice paused, the hands releasing hers for a moment, then returning with a glove. "Place the opening over your mouth and nose and concentrate on inflating and deflating the glove."  
  
She did as instructed and winced, smelling stale sweat and leather with each breath. But it seemed to be working. Her breathing slowed and she began to feel less dizzy. When she felt fairly certain she wasn't about to faint, she attempted to draw the glove away from her face. A hand stopped her.  
  
"It smells," she managed in complaint, her voice muffled by the glove.  
  
"Well, it worked, didn't it?" the voice, which was now very familiar, countered. "Don't stop until you're certain you can breathe normally on your own."  
She took a few more breaths before the glove's odor reached her tolerance limit. Yanking it away from her face and breathing in fresh air normally, she thrust it back at the owner. "Here," she said, still looking at the floor. She stiffened as she felt her back being rubbed gently as the glove was taken from her hand. Why did he have to rub her back? Why did he have to be so compassionate?  
  
"Sorry about the glove," Luke joked softly. "Feeling better now?"  
  
Genna nodded. Now that her mind wasn't fuzzy from excess oxygen, she regretted accepting assistance from what she then thought was a random stranger. Though, in truth, she had been in no shape to resist anyway. She would have passed out and then been dragged to the medcenter, a potentially more embarrassing situation than the one she was in now.  
  
"Can you tell me what happened?"  
  
Luke's question made her stiffen, and she hugged her knees to her head, still refusing to look at him.  
  
"Genna, please," he pleaded softly. "Was it . . .I mean . . . .I'm sorry if . . . .oh, Force. Genna, I didn't mean to upset you."  
  
Listening to his stammering and his heartfelt apology made Genna chuckle darkly. "It wasn't you," she whispered.  
  
There was a pause for a moment, and Genna heard approaching footsteps. She groaned inwardly. A moment of weakness, and now she had an audience. Perfect! Squeezing her eyes shut, she realized that she now understood how Luke had felt after his reaction to the pain meds. It was truly mortifying.  
  
"Is she all right?" she heard someone ask.  
  
"I think so," Luke responded.  
  
"You guys need any help?" another voice asked.  
  
"I think we'll be okay," answered Luke, continuing to rub her back. To her, he asked, "You think you can stand?"  
  
Not wanting to see who it was who had come by or to show her face to them right now, she whispered, "In a minute."  
  
To the curious onlookers, Luke said, "I think we'll be okay. Thanks, though."  
  
She was relieved to hear them walk away after a moment, and she sighed. Small embarrassing moment averted.   
  
"They're gone," Luke assured her. "Ready to get out of the hallway, now?"  
  
Genna nodded and allowed Luke to assist her to stand. "Thanks," she muttered before lifting her gaze from the floor for the first time. As she caught her first glance at Luke's concerned look, she choked. With a tightness in her chest that threatened to send her into another hyperventilating fit, she suddenly realized that she was developing feelings for him. Feelings that were too intense for what she had to do. And poor Luke was clearly baffled.  
  
"Come on," he said tightly, obviously not understanding the look she was now giving him. "Let's get out of here so we can talk a minute."  
  
Afraid of what he might say, but powerless to refuse to go where he lead, she nodded and began walking with him down the corridor to wherever it was he wanted to go.  
  
  
  
"Please tell me what's wrong," Luke said softly after he and Genna had made seats out of boxes in the storage closet they now occupied. Luke hadn't been able to find any other place where they could talk privately, so the two of them had finally ducked into a closet that seemed to contain mostly cleaning supplies. Luke had never given a second though to the maintenance work that was being done to keep the base clean on a daily basis until this moment, sitting there surrounded by boxes and boxes of solvents, disinfectants, abrasives and other items. At first he'd been struck by the oddness of it. Now, his attention was directed solely at the silent woman sitting opposite him.  
  
Genna sat, her hands folded in her lap and eyes downcast. To Luke, she hardly resembled the brash young woman who had approached him in the mess hall on Ithull so many days ago. She seemed, well, almost broken.  
  
"Genna, talk to me," he pleaded when she continued to stare at her folded hands. Hoping to evoke some sort of response, he reached over and clasped one of her hands in his, running his thumb gently over her soft brown skin. "You can't tell me it's nothing, and you can't tell me you don't want to talk about it, because I won't let you. You need to tell me what's troubling you."  
  
Briefly, Genna raised her eyes to his, then looked downward again. Still there was no reply.  
  
Luke decided to choose a different tactic. "Okay, then we'll both miss the meeting while I sit here, waiting for you to talk."  
  
"Luke, you can't," Genna began in protest, the first words she'd spoken since they'd left the hallway.   
  
"Then talk to me," Luke pressed, relieved to be getting some response now.  
  
Genna met his gaze, biting her lip as though uncertain how to divulge whatever it was she needed to say. For Luke, the wait was interminable. Patience was not his strong suit, but he held his tongue, forcing himself to give her time to speak. At last she whispered, "Luke, it's Laire." She seemed to falter then, dropping her forehead to her hands. "Oh, stars, Luke! I can't be telling you this!"  
  
"What, Genna?" he asked, now worried more than ever.   
  
Trembling, her voice broken, she spoke hurriedly and quietly, "Laire killed Grey. Grey was like me, a former Imperial who refused to obey the last command given to him by the Empire. And Laire is the watchdog, making sure that the orders are fulfilled. Which means that I have to do what I was ordered to do, or others will be killed. My friends, the ones who worked with me to betray the Empire, they're still in Vader's grasp, waiting for me to do my job or they'll be killed. Stars, I can't let them die!" She was fighting back tears of fear and frustration, but she pressed on before Luke had a chance to interrupt. "If it was just me, I'd say to hell with the whole thing. Let the Empire take their best shot at me while I'm in an X-wing blasting them to bits! But there's too many people involved! If I don't follow orders, my friends die. If I do, I betray you and the Rebellion! Either way, someone gets hurt, and it's my fault!"  
  
Luke felt cold as the information that had just been delivered to him rapid-fire washed over him. He stared at Genna in disbelief, trying to get a grasp on the situation. He grasped her shoulders instead. "You're sure about Laire?"  
  
Genna snorted bitterly. Lifting her chin to show him where Laire had pierced her skin with his blade earlier, she remarked icily, "Where do you think this came from? And there's a nice lump on the back of my head to go with it."  
  
Whatever dislike Luke had felt toward Laire before now exploded into palpable hate and pure loathing. He couldn't believe the man could be so base as to physically assault her even as he destroyed her dreams and forced her to take the lives of her comrades in her hands. Words failed him as he looked on her, a woman who had never before seemed this fragile.  
  
"All I wanted to do was fight against them, Luke," she whispered in a quavering voice. "That's all I wanted to do. They destroyed my home, my dreams, my life. Why can't I take the revenge I deserve? Others have! Why can't I?"  
  
"You will," Luke found himself saying to her. "I promise you, you will get your chance."  
  
"If I betray the Empire, people will die!" she countered.  
  
"We'll find a way," he assured her, giving her shoulders a squeeze. "I don't know how, but we will."  
  
"What about Laire?"  
  
Luke bit his lip as he thought a moment, searching for answers in a hopeless situation. If Laire was being truthful, Genna's disclosure of his Imperial status would most definitely result in the deaths of her friends. However, he couldn't be allowed to wander freely through Alliance ranks. Who knew how much information he had already delivered to the Empire? "We'll trap him."  
  
"What?" Genna stared at him incredulously.  
  
"I'll let Narra know about the situation," he said, and noting Genna's attempt to protest, he pressed on. "He's a good man, you can trust him. We'll make sure Laire doesn't get his hands on any valuable Alliance information, if he hasn't already. And then we'll figure out a way to snare him and get him to reveal information to us. There is the possibility that he's lying to you."  
  
"I know, but I've been afraid to take that chance," Genna admitted softly. "But what do we do in the meantime?"  
  
"We act normal," Luke answered with a sigh. "If Laire corners you, tell him you're getting close to me in order to obtain information."  
  
At that, a sly smile crept across Genna's features. "That implies I'll be getting close to you."  
  
Luke blushed and his gaze faltered. Staring at the ground he replied, "Well, at least I got you to smile."  
  
He felt her gingerly take his chin in her hand and lift his face to gaze back at her. "I wouldn't mind," she said softly.  
  
Luke felt his cheeks redden even more as his heart began to pound in his chest. Feeling suddenly bold, he lifted his hand to her cheek, gently wiping away the dampness that had gathered beneath her eyes as she'd spoken. As his thumb caressed the soft skin of her face, he couldn't tear his gaze away from her deep brown eyes and the long black lashes that framed them. Without thought, his thumb began to trace a path down her soft cheek toward her lips. He was vaguely aware that her own hand had shifted from his chin and was now softly cupping his own cheek. He felt his pulse quicken as his heart threatened to burst from his chest. He'd never felt anything remotely like this before.  
  
A heartbeat later, she leaned forward and her lips met his. Briefly, he was thankful that she had been the one to initiate it. This time, it wasn't clumsy, it wasn't awkward. Their lips met, and Luke felt as though he was suddenly melting into her. Time seemed to stop as a flood of emotion rushed through him. He didn't want it to end. He leaned further into the kiss, felt her hand in his hair, and realized he was stroking her hair as well. It was beautiful.  
  
Then the necessity to breathe intervened and they drew apart. Panting and feeling instantly self-conscious and shy, Luke leaned his forehead against hers, shutting his eyes and willing his heart to resume its natural rhythm.  
  
"Uhm," Genna's voice softly whispered to him, "don't we have a meeting to go to?"  
  
"Yeah," Luke breathed, still not moving. "Guess we should probably start heading over there."  
  
"Ready when you are."  
  
Luke took a deep breath and pulled away from her, looking at her for the first time since they'd broken the kiss. She was smiling at him, looking for the most part like the woman she had been when they first met. Fear still shone dimly in her eyes, but it was tempered with something else, something he hadn't seen in her before. Trust.  
  
He rose, albeit shakily, to his feet, and drew her up to stand with him. Opening the door of the closet, he gestured, "After you." 


	23. Chapter 23

Hearts Are Meant To, Chapter 23

By KnightMara

A/N: I have been having a horrible time with formatting issues on , but hopefully this latest upload will be successful. To everyone who has reviewed, I thank you! I am also sorry for making you wait so long for this next post. Like I said, formatting has been a nightmare. And now, without further ado:

"Can you believe this?"

Luke threw an irritated glance at the complaining Hobbie before tossing a rather heavy crate toward him. He watched in carefully hidden satisfaction as Hobbie staggered under its weight as he caught it. "No ships to spare, Hobbie," Luke explained as he went back to loading tech supplies into the crates. The Rogues had been at it all morning after having been assigned to the task at the meeting the evening before. "So you might as well make yourself useful on the ground."

"While the Renegades get to have all the fun," Wes groaned, "again."

"Yeah, boys, it's a conspiracy," Wedge remarked with heavy sarcasm. "Narra's finally given up on all of us and decided the Renegades are going to be flying all our missions from now on. We can all retire."

Luke grinned at him.

"Oh, c'mon, Wedge," retorted Hobbie. "This is a joke, and you know it! What're we doing here? Packing crates and loading 'em onto the transport? That's ground crew work!"

"And right now we're ground crew," Luke interjected, putting as much authority in his voice as he could. "You heard Narra last night. We have atmospheric crafts, that's all. No X-wings, or Y-wings. Just our Headhunters, and the airspeeders. Unless there's a serious attack on the base, which no one is expecting, our duties are to help pack up the base, and get on a transport."

"You act like you're happy about it or something," Hobbie countered, a hint of suspicion creeping into his voice.

Luke snorted. "You know, there's a lot I'm not happy about right now, that's a fact. But after a year in the Rebellion, I decided it was time to stop whining about things and do my job."

"What about that thing with Laire yesterday?"

"This assignment came from the General, Hobbie," Luke cried, clearly exasperated. "Not Narra, not Laire. The General." He turned back to his crate sighing, "Look, I don't have time for this. Just take your frustrations somewhere else."

"I know what this is about," Hobbie snapped, refusing to drop the subject. "Luke's new girlfriend is a Renegade, so he's sticking up for them now! Isn't that right?"

"She's not my girlfriend."

Wes chuckled. "Don't want to make the princess jealous, eh?"

Luke only scowled and went back to his work.

"Skywalker!"

Luke spun around at the sound of Narra's voice and saw the man approaching him with a serious look on his face. "Sir."

"I need to speak with you a moment," Narra stated and indicated an area of the hanger away from the Rogues and relatively secluded.

Luke ignored the curious gazes of the others and followed Narra where he lead, wondering if the information he'd given the commander last night had revealed anything.

"Luke," Narra whispered as soon as they were well away from everyone in the vicinity, "I'm doing my best to find out as much as I can about Laire, but my resources are limited. I convinced the General to put him on restricted duty based on the incident with Grey and Cage, but that won't last forever. We need to set a trap for him, and fast. Lives are at stake as long as he's around."

"And lives are at stake if we reveal we know his true intentions as well," Luke added.

"Not that we could make that kind of move, anyway," Narra countered. "Right now this situation is merely a he said/she said dilemma. I need proof, Luke."

Luke rubbed the back of his neck in frustration. "I'm working on it. What about Genna's transfer to Rogue flight?"

"Nearly done," Narra responded. "That will keep you both aboard the transport and make it appear she's spying on you. Especially since the transfer request appears to be made by Cage, herself. I've also worked with the general in coordinating several criss-crossed hyperspace jumps to give you both some time and to keep Laire away from Ithull. That's about all I can do right now."

Luke clasped his hand. "I can't thank you enough for what you've done already."

Narra smiled warmly and glanced over at the grumbling Rogues. "You'd better get back to your men, Luke. They look like they need a morale boost."

"Just eager to get back in the cockpit of an X-wing, sir," Luke laughed.

Narra sobered slightly and said, "I'm sure you boys'll get up there soon enough."

"Yes, sir," the younger man agreed.

"In the meantime," Narra continued with an arched eyebrow as he studied the Rogues from a distance, "make sure they don't kill each other, will you?"

"Huh?" Luke spun around to see what Narra was referring to, and just caught sight of Hobbie leveling a mean right hook against Wes. "Shavit!" Luke growled before he could stop himself. He threw an apologetic look at Narra. "Uh, sorry sir. I guess duty calls."

Laughing, Narra nodded, and Luke sprinted away to try to make peace between his men.

Hours later, the supplies and the Rogues were aboard one of the transport ships that headed toward Ithull. Genna was aware that the ship was scheduled to make several different jumps in order to keep Laire away from the planet for as long as possible, but that offered little comfort. Especially since she was now working within a time frame to try to trap him, she had no idea how Luke was planning to do that, and she hadn't even seen Luke or Laire since before she'd boarded the transport. In fact, last she'd seen, Luke had his hands rather full trying to calm the rest of the Rogues; and if she hadn't been mistaken, she could have sworn he was nursing a black-eye for his efforts. All in all, the situation was a rather frustrating one.

Which was why she was now taking the edge off of that frustration in the transport's small fitness center. She was also immensely thankful for the genius who had decided to install the random pieces of exercise equipment in a tiny unused room aboard the ship. Of course, it wouldn't do to have an out-of-shape military unit, now would it? Nor would it do to have pilots and soldiers moving around with pent-up anxieties and barely repressed anger. A short while ago, she'd felt like tackling a few Rogues herself. Taking the productive approach, she tackled the stationary runner instead, setting it to a grueling pace and an extended duration. About halfway through, fueled by her adrenaline, she hadn't even begun to fatigue, though her sense of calm was slowly returning.

"Having fun yet?"

Taken utterly by surprise, she nearly stumbled as she whipped her head around to meet the gaze of her intruder. She quickly regained her balance, however, trying to scowl as she faced her head forward again. "Don't you ever do that to me again, Luke!"

"Didn't mean to startle you," he said apologetically, moving around to the front of the machine so he could talk to her without causing another accident. "Didn't you hear the door when I came in?"

"No," Genna replied, self-consciously pushing a sweat-drenched curl away from her face as she continued her run. "So why are you here, anyway?"

"Looking for you," he answered as he took a seat on a nearby bench. "Actually, I was kinda' surprised to find you here."

"Why?" Genna teased in reply. "Never seen a girl sweat before?"

Luke laughed. "I was raised on a desert planet, what do you think?"

Genna couldn't help but grin at him, the young farm boy-turned pilot. "So then why the surprise?"

Shrugging, Luke answered, "Guess I figured it was a strange place for you to be. Considering."

"Considering what?" she asked, gesturing around them without breaking pace. "That I feel helpless, frustrated, impatient, anxious? Since there's really nothing I can do at the moment, I figured I'd let off some steam in the most positive way possible." She paused in her speech a moment as she surveyed him. "Nice shiner, by the way."

Luke appeared to blush as he touched the darkening skin beneath his eye in embarrassment. "Thanks."

"How'd you get it?"

"You're not the only one trying to let off some steam. The Rogues are a bit agitated, too, only they don't seem to handle it as well as you do. And, unfortunately, I got in the way of Wes's fist as he tried to retaliate against Hobbie's initial punch. That's the last time I'll ever try to stop a fight. I'll let them get all the bruises next time."

Genna shook her head, laughing at his statement. "Right. And the next time it happens, you'll go all noble again, Luke. I may not have known you for very long, but I think I've got you pretty well pegged." At least, she assumed she did. She was placing her own life and the lives of her friends in his hands. She only hoped that the young pilot who had proven himself to be a perfect gentleman time and time again was the true character of the man before her. Looking into his eyes at this moment, it was hard to doubt that it was. Smiling at him, she powered down the runner and stepped off.

"Done already?" he asked, rising from the bench and handing her the bottle of water at his feet.

She gratefully took it from his grasp as she dabbed her face and neck with a towel. "Yeah," she said between sips of water. "Either the run or your visit put me in a much better mood. And I've been on that thing long enough."

She saw him smile at her off-handed compliment before he asked, "How long exactly were you running?"

"Don't ask," she responded before taking another gulp. "I'll probably be paying for it tomorrow, anyway."

"Well, don't hesitate to find me if you need a massage tomorrow."

Genna watched in amusement at the play of emotions across Luke's face as the full realization of what he'd just said hit him. It tickled her, and if she hadn't felt so disgustingly sweaty at the moment, she probably would have hugged him for it. Instead, she settled for a teasing remark that was sure to make him blush. "I'll be sure to stop by your quarters if I need you."

She was rewarded for her words as his cheeks slowly burned crimson and he looked down at his boots with a lopsided grin. What she didn't expect was his next reply. "You do that."

With that, she burst out in a hearty laugh. "My, my, Lieutenant Commander Skywalker, aren't we bold?"

"Maybe," he said softly, taking a timid step toward her, as thought mustering his courage. "Or maybe it's something else."

She was taken aback when he reached up a hand and brushed several damp curls away from her face and tucked them behind her ear. She squirmed uncharacteristically. "Don't. I've been sweating, and I'm all gross and disgusting," she stammered.

Luke let his hand slide down her neck until it rested on her shoulder and took a step back. "I'm sorry," he apologized gently. "I didn't mean to make you feel uncomfortable. But I have to say, you're far from disgusting."

"Well, I certainly don't feel very attractive at the moment," she said in excuse, though touched by his words.

"Okay, then," Luke said, smiling at her. "Why don't I let you take a shower, and then you can meet me in my quarters when you're done. I have a few ideas I want to talk to you about."

At first, Genna's pulse raced at the invitation and its possible implications. But at the mention of his "ideas," reality hit her full force, and she knew he'd come up with a plan for their little trap. Feeling strangely disappointed, though she couldn't fathom why, she nodded. "I'll see you then."

"I'll be waiting," he replied, giving her shoulder a light squeeze before he headed for the door.

As she watched him go, a sudden strange feeling began to well up inside her. Before she could think, she called out, "Luke?"  
He turned to look at her with a puzzled expression. "Yeah?"

But she couldn't speak. Couldn't answer. Couldn't explain what it was that had made her call his name. She hadn't meant to, really. Or had she? Suddenly she didn't want him to leave. She wanted to bask in the presence of him, of his obvious caring for her. Or was it something more? No, it was too soon. He couldn't be falling for her, nor her for him. They hadn't known each other long enough. And yet, a nagging voice in her brain kept telling him she was falling for him, and falling hard. And there was nothing she could do about it.

Realizing he was still standing there, she knew she had to say something. "Nothing, never mind."

Luke nodded and left, as she watched him, puzzled by her own emotions.


	24. Chapter 24

Hearts Are Meant To, Chapter 24

By KnightMara

Feeling much less disgusting after a long shower, Genna stepped out of the 'fresher to grab a clean change of clothes. A slight movement caught out of the corner of her eye had her clutching at the towel that was wrapped around her torso and gasping. She leveled her eyes darkly at the intruder, feeling her heart beat frantically as she did so. How dare he!

"You left your door unlocked," Commander Laire intoned smoothly from his seat on her bed. "Tsk, tsk, how dangerous. Anyone could have barged in." He rose slowly and stepped toward her. "You're lucky it was just me."

Clutching her towel even more tightly to her chest, she felt both fear and anger rising within her. The anger took control of her mouth. "I thank my lucky stars," she spat out bitterly.

A chilling grin spread across his features as he took in her near-naked form. "You should, my dear."

"Tell me," she growled, "are all Imperial spies trained to be as lascivious as you?"

Laire chuckled. "Don't flatter yourself, my dear. I'm hardly here for that sort of thing." He took another step toward her, the grin slowly melting from his features. "Rather, I'm here to check up on you. I've heard nothing recently, and I wanted to make sure you weren't falling behind on your duties to the Empire."

Genna hoped she was keeping the panic out of her features and voice as she responded. "Why would you think that?"

"You've found something, then?"

Fighting to keep her voice level, she replied, "Actually, I've been using this time to get close to Skywalker. In fact, I'm meeting him in a few moments." She narrowed her eyes and added, "In his quarters."

Another icy grin appeared on Laire's face. "Really, Cage, I didn't think you had it in you. Quite the seductress now, aren't you? I was right about the importance of having a female on the job, wasn't I?" He lightly brushed the tip of his finger over her shoulder.

She shuddered at his touch and drew back. "Don't get any funny ideas. I'm not doing this out of any kind of enjoyment or pleasure. Merely out of duty to the Empire."

Again, Laire chuckled, and cautioned, "Be sure to keep it that way. The Empire does not care for female officers who take enjoyment from that sort of degrading work. There are words for that."

"And I am well aware of all of them," Genna spat back bitterly. Drawing herself up and taking yet another step back away from him, she added, "But if you don't mind, I have a job to do. And quite frankly, sir, you're in the way."

Her efforts to put more distance between them went unheeded as he gently brushed her cheek and remarked, "You're so much more spirited now than you were in the lift, my dear. I daresay it pleases me."

Genna bit back the sickening feeling his words evoked and tried to control the slight trembling that seemed to have overtaken her body. "Sir," she managed through dry lips, "my duty calls."

Laire pulled back in response, his face once again becoming coldly expressionless. "Yes, of course. I will allow you to prepare for this evening's activities," he said as he turned toward the door.

Repulsed by his presence and the implications inherent in his words, she placed her back to him and quickly grabbed her garments. Needing to get completely out of his sight as soon as possible, she headed for the 'fresher to change. His voice stopped her dead in her tracks.

"One more thing, Cage," he said, turning back around to study her. "When you're done with Skywalker, there is something else I need you to do."

Her blood turned to liquid ice as he spoke. What in Force did he want her to do now? She didn't want to hear the answer.

"With all the worry over spies and such, the Alliance has beefed up their security measures. As a result, my passcodes no longer grant me access to many of the systems on this ship, particularly personnel files. I need you to try to acquire Skywalker's personal access codes to acquire copies of all of his medical records. Particularly the bloodwork done after that pseudonyex episode."

How did he know about that? "Why?" she asked.

Laire's face shifted into something resembling cool disinterest. "Mere curiosity. After all, that particular reaction has been practically unheard of since the Clone Wars. And even more puzzling are Lord Vader's instructions. After all, this is the rebel who destroyed our finest technological achievement and killed our most esteemed Grand Moff in the process. Surely this would warrant something other than direct orders not to harm the rebel scum. Odd, don't you think?"

Genna nodded, secretly pleased. Laire apparently didn't know about Luke's Force abilities, or his relationship to a deceased Jedi Knight whom Vader had killed. Had she not known as much about Luke as she now did, she might have been curious, too. However, she and Luke had formulated their own ideas as to why Vader was so intent on capturing him. "I'll get them for you as soon as I can."

"Good," Laire replied, a satisfied smile on his face. "Try to do it tonight. Then meet me in the officer's lounge at 0100. I'll be in far-left corner. And don't turn the lights on. That area is supposed to be empty and powered down at that hour. We wouldn't want to attract attention now would we?"

"Of course not," Genna answered stiffly.

With another lecherous grin that made Genna's skin crawl, he left. A few moments after the door closed behind him, she forced her now gelatinous muscles into rapid motion. Swiftly dressing herself, she hurried out of her room and down the hall. She stopped at Luke's door and quickly palmed it open.

The urgency of her entrance caused the young pilot to leap from the chair he'd been occupying before the door slid open. "What is it?"

Before she would answer, she turned toward the door and slid it closed. Then she looked back at him, determination in her gaze. "Whatever plan you had, scrap it! We're gonna' nab him tonight!"

"Okay, I think I got it," Luke said as tried pulling up his records on the medcenter data terminal. It was nearing midnight, and he and Genna were in the tiny records room of the transport's infirmary. It consisted of a desk, a chair, a data storage unit, and a terminal that could be used to access the records of anyone in the Alliance. Luke hadn't really thought he had the codes necessary to pull up his own medical charts, but suddenly his information flashed on the screen. "Yep, I got it. Whoa, take a look at this. These guys sure keep detailed records."

Genna peered over his shoulder. "You had Corellian Influenza?"

Luke shuddered at the memory. "It's not pretty," he said.

"I thought it was extinct."

Luke grinned. "Hardly," he replied, his memory going back to his near-fatal encounter with the virus. "I wasn't immunized."

Chuckling and rolling her eyes simultaneously, Genna quipped, "Idiot farm boy."

"Hey, my aunt and uncle never bothered because I wasn't going off planet any time soon," he argued. His tone changed as he added with regret, "At least that's what they thought."

"Okay, okay," Genna conceded, a sense of urgency in her tone. "Well let's get this copied so we can get out of here."

"Right," Luke agreed, quickly copying his records onto a small datacard and wondering why he was doing so. "Any idea why this guy wants my complete medical history?"

Genna shrugged her shoulders, seeming to be as unsure as he was. "He says he resents the fact that Vader only wants you captured and unharmed, seeing as you destroyed the Death Star and all. Maybe Laire is hoping to discover proof of your Force talents to send to Vader or others who might react badly to the news that the Jedi might have survived. Or maybe he's a simple man hoping to find a weakness he can exploit, like an allergy or something like that."

Luke stared at her incredulously, an involuntary spasm of fear shooting up his spine. "And we're just going to hand this over to him?" he exclaimed. "Why not fake it or give him a blank datacard?"

"Knowing Laire, he'll probably check it as soon as he gets his hands on it, to make sure it's the real thing," Genna explained. "Besides, he's not going to go anywhere with it. I'll have the recorder on, and as soon as we get enough out of him to have him locked away, you nab him."

"And if something goes wrong?" Luke pressed, still very uncomfortable with her plan. His had a lot less risk involved. But then again, he had been counting on having a lot more time.

"If something goes wrong, the results will probably be a lot worse than simply having your medical records stolen," she answered bluntly.

He smiled wryly at her honesty. "Gee thanks."

"Are you done yet?"

Luke looked back down at the screen. "Uh, yeah." He reached down to remove the datacard and paused a moment as he looked at the screen. Although his medical records were very thorough, his personal data was woefully lacking. There, where it should have listed his biological parents, it only said, "Father Unknown (possibly Anakin Skywalker?), Mother Unknown." He stared at the words, feeling a deep pang of need as he did so. A need to know who they were, of where he'd come from. Who was Anakin Skywalker, and was he really his father? The name had never been uttered in the Lars household, and Luke had only come to know it after he joined the Alliance. After all, Anakin had been the only Jedi Knight and pilot during the Clone Wars that anyone could recall as having the Skywalker name. That people had remembered him as a man with a fair complexion who could fly circles around his enemies had only strengthened the assumed connection to Luke. But there was no proof, and no information about Anakin Skywalker to be found. The man was as shrouded in mystery as Luke's own past.

"Luke?"

He jerked at the sound of Genna's voice, realizing he'd become lost in the data, or lack thereof. "Sorry," he mumbled, removing the datacard and handing it to her. He was about to close his records when the door suddenly opened.

"What are you two doing in here?"

Luke spun to see Wedge standing in the doorway, a perplexed expression on his face. Luke's hand had instinctively gone for his blaster, but he relaxed at the sight of his friend and asked, "Well, what are you doing here, Wedge?"

"Looking for you two," the Corellian replied. "Although I certainly didn't expect to find you raiding the medcenter records. How did you two get in here anyway?"

"Luke pulled rank," Genna answered playfully. "You wouldn't believe what being a Commander in the Alliance can do for you, especially when you throw in a little touch of Death Star heroics!"

Luke grimaced and went back to clearing the terminal. "Wedge, we're setting a trap for Laire, and the less you know about what we're doing, the safer you'll be. So I suggest you turn around and head right back out."

"Right," Wedge nodded sarcastically. "And let you two get into who knows what kind of trouble with an Imperial spy? I don't think so." He crossed his arms in front of his chest and leaned against the wall, as if to signify that he wasn't going anywhere. "So what's the plan?"

Luke had no intention of answering him, but Genna jumped in. "We're using Luke's medical records as bait. Laire's going to meet me in the officer's lounge while Luke waits just outside the rear door that leads to a seldom used walkway. I'll have a recorder strapped to my chest, so I'll be recording everything Laire says. Once we have enough info to nab him, Luke is going to come from behind and disarm him."

Wedge looked from Luke to Genna and back, an expression of disbelief on his face. "That's it? That's your plan?"

Luke only looked at him in affirmation.

"That's insane!" Wedge exclaimed. "Why just the two of you against him? Why not security officers, or Narra, or me?"

Genna shook her head. "We thought about that, but Laire's too crafty. It'll be hard enough to sneak Luke into the area without him finding out, let alone a bunch of guys with blasters."

"Does Narra at least know about this?"

"No," Luke answered. "In fact, it was just the two of us, until Genna decided to tell you." He gave her a sharp look.

"I got an idea when he came in," she said in defense.

"What idea?" asked Wedge.

Luke had been about to ask the same question. Now he stared as Genna expectantly.

"Maybe Wedge can hang out somewhere that isn't too far away," she answered. "That way, in case anything does go wrong, we're not totally alone in this."

"Yes, but how will he know?" Luke argued. "I mean, if something goes wrong, we're alone in that room. Wedge being at the other end of the hallway isn't going to help."

Wedge cut in. "If I am close by, in a worst case scenario I could hear a blaster shot or a shout for help. But I'd like to put Narra on standby."

Luke shook his head. "Too risky."

"I won't tell him anything, except to be alert for Laire to try something. I'll tell him I'm keeping an eye out for you, but I'll contact him on the comlink if anything goes wrong."

"Then it's settled," Genna said with a nod. She turned to Luke. "Wedge is our backup, and his idea to keep Narra on standby is a good one."

"Fine," Luke conceded. He wasn't happy about any of this, but the situation didn't seem likely to get any better.

"Okay," Genna continued, looking at her chrono. "We've got an hour until the meeting. Let's take our places, shall we?"


	25. Chapter 25

Hearts Are Meant To, Chapter 25

By Knight Mara

A/N: This is a relatively short chapter. The next chapter is very long, though, so it evens out.

Genna and Luke walked swiftly down the empty corridor toward the officers' lounge with Wedge right behind them. Genna couldn't help but feel a deep sense of unease about this whole plan, even if she had been the one who thought of it. It was too rushed for her tastes, too chancy. Yet, they hadn't had much choice. Laire was getting impatient now, and they had to act quickly. She only hoped that her haste wouldn't cost them their lives.

She felt a sudden tug on her hand where Luke held it and was stunned for a moment when he pulled her into a small kitchen area, telling Wedge, "Excuse us for just a minute." As soon as the door had shut behind them, he took her face in his hands and pressed his lips to hers. The suddenness of the action surprised her, as did the unmistakable heated passion that seemed to be rolling off Luke in waves. They remained pressed against each other for what seemed like an eternity, until the need to breathe pulled them both apart.

Genna grinned self-consciously, a warm blush darkening the soft brown skin of her cheeks. Trying to gain some semblance of control over herself, she quipped, "Don't tell me your going to spout one of those 'This could be our last moment together' lines."

Luke shook his head slightly, his light blue eyes never straying from her own. "Nope." He kissed her lightly.

"You're that confident in this plan, then?" she asked when her lips were free to speak.

Luke chuckled slightly, kissing her again. "Nope," he murmured, deepening the kiss once more.

Genna found her arms circling his back as she pressed against him, her fingers grasping his soft hair. She tried to speak between intermittent kisses. "Then why . . .did you . . .leave Antilles . . .out there alone . . .in the hall?"

"Trust me," Luke replied, speaking between kisses as well. "He doesn't . . .want to watch this." Luke pulled away slightly, planting a light kiss on her forehead. "Besides, I just wanted a moment to tell you how much I care about you," he said softly. "I want you to know that no matter what happens, I . . .I think I love you." He dropped his gaze, awkwardly staring down at the floor.

Genna stared at him, speechless. Her body seemed to tingle, even as every muscle seemed to suddenly weaken at his words. They were just words, she told herself; though she knew it wasn't true. They were somehow more, leaving Genna staring wordlessly into Luke's blue eyes while her body didn't know whether to laugh or to cry. Instead, on impulse, she pulled him to her, holding him as tightly as she could as her chin rested on his shoulder, his hair tickling her nose. She never wanted to let go. She blinked unexpectedly blurry eyes, surprised to feel tears run down her face. So she'd opted to cry, she mused to herself, evoking a laugh. Great, now she was doing both.

She felt Luke's hand rub her back, his gentle touch causing her to tremble as she squeezed him tighter. Force, she didn't want to go! She didn't want to walk into that room and face uncertainty with both of their lives in the balance! She wanted to stay with him, here, where she felt safe for the first time since she'd left Alderaan. Her heart willed it, even though her head knew they both had a job to do. She released her hold on him, and stepped back, looking into his eyes once more. She saw deep concern in them.

"What is it?" he asked. Clearly, he was alarmed by her tears.

She quickly brushed them away. "Nothing, it's just—"

There was a knock at the door. "Uh, guys," Wedge's voice called from the other side. "I don't wanna know what you're doing in there, but time is of the essence."

Genna watched as Luke sighed in resignation and opened the door. A very impatient Wedge Antilles stood on the other side, looking at them in annoyance.

"Are you two finished?" Wedge asked.

Luke nodded. "And I think we found the perfect spot for you to wait for us. Hang out in here and close the door. If you hear anything, or if we haven't come out of there by 0130, contact Narra."

"Where's the lounge?"

Luke pointed down the corridor. "There, on the far end."

Wedge gave an affirmative nod. "Just hope I'm not too far away." He gripped Luke's hand. "Good luck, boss." The Corellian's eyes held deep sincerity. And worry.

Genna shivered involuntarily at the sight, a feeling of unworthiness creeping up on her. Every bit of elation she'd felt at Luke's stammered confession evaporated. What right had she to Luke's heart? He was so well liked, so talented, so vital to the Rebellion. And what was she? A woman plagued by the suspicions of others since her arrival, who swore revenge against an Empire that still held her captive. She didn't deserve his affections, his love. He had been right all along; she was bad luck. If it hadn't been for her, he wouldn't be in the mess he was in now. Laire would have already been captured. Or would he? She bit her lip in frustration, as she watched him exchange a few words with Wedge. Things were too confusing now to see anything clearly. When this was all over, she'd have time to think about it.

Think about what? Giving him up? Denying her heart? Could she really do that? Would it hurt him as well? Too many doubts swirled in her mind, leaving only one clear thought. No matter what, they had to succeed in this. For Luke's sake.

"Ready to go?"

Startled by his question, she looked into his expectant gaze, her random thoughts buried as she hardened her resolve to do whatever she had to do to make sure he got out of this unscathed. "Yes, I'm ready."


	26. Chapter 26

Hearts are Meant To: Chapter 26

By KnightMara

A/N: Sorry about the ridiculously long delay between the last post and this. I hate it when real life gets in the way of posting. . . . don't you? And for those of you who have been sticking through all my long delays to finish this story, thank you SO VERY MUCH for all your reviews! Yes, this story will be finished, and I will hopefully stay on top of the updates. But for now, here's Chapter 26.

It was ten minutes past the scheduled meeting time, and Genna was getting anxious. Alone in the small officer's lounge, she sat on the couch, waiting for Laire's arrival. He was supposed to have been there when she arrived, but so far there was no sign of him. The room had been powered down as he'd said, however; it was dark but for a blinking terminal that had most likely been intentionally left on. She hoped that Luke was in place by now, for he had headed toward his post long before she'd arrived, with instructions to wait in the tiny utility closet until 0110, just in case Laire chose to enter through the rear door as well. As of yet, there had been no sign of anyone, and all Genna could do was to hope that Laire would arrive soon and that this whole plan would go off quickly and smoothly.

She started as she heard the rear door open.

Hope fled the instant Laire stepped in the room. He wasn't alone. A very captive Luke was with him.

Her heart froze in her chest as she saw the muzzle of his blaster pressed into Luke's neck. How had Laire been able to find him? Had he known? Were there more spies than she realized? Unable to move or speak, Genna stared at the pair, seeing the sheer malice in Laire's eyes, and the silent apology in Luke's. Somehow, someway, Laire had turned the tables, trapping them instead of the other way around. How? How had he done it?

"As you can see, Miss Cage," Laire sneered, "your foolish attempt to betray the Empire has failed. Once again." For emphasis, he shoved the blaster harder against Luke's neck, scowling when the young man refused to even flinch. "Now, I'm afraid, you will both pay for your transgressions."

Genna was frozen, seized by paralyzing hopelessness. She couldn't even speak. She was startled when Luke did.

"You can't kill me," he said softly. "You said yourself, the Empire wants me alive."

With another jab of the blaster, Laire turned his gaze on Luke and spat, "Preferably unharmed. But there are always unfortunate circumstances that could arise!"

"A blaster shot to the neck would be pretty hard to explain, wouldn't it?" Luke pressed, his gaze fixed on Genna. She saw in his gaze an urgency coupled with a silent plea to escape while he had Laire's attention. In an instant, she realized the cause of Luke's desperation. She was the one in danger, not him. Laire would not intentionally damage Vader's prize, but Genna was vulnerable. Taking her cue from Luke, she shifted imperceptibly toward the main door to the lounge. Laire did not seem to notice. "After all, that would be rather difficult to survive, wouldn't it?" Luke went on.

"Depends on the shot, boy," Laire retorted.

Luke's eyes widened a split second before Laire's finger pulled the trigger. As Genna watched in horror, Luke dropped bonelessly to the floor in a twitching heap. Shock hit her like a blow to the stomach, robbing her of air as she watched Laire survey his handiwork with a feral grin. Before she could even gasp another breath in reaction or make another move toward the door, the blaster was leveled at her.

"Move away from the door, my dear," he hissed. "I assure you, this isn't set on stun anymore."

A small tendril of relief penetrated her shocked mind. Stun. Her eyes fell on Luke's crumpled form. As his body slowed its convulsive spasms, she realized with profound satisfaction that he was still alive. Stunned at point-blank range, but still alive. As she looked back up at Laire, however, she stared into the barrel of the blaster and wondered if she'd fare as well.

"I'm surprised at you, Cage," Laire admonished in menacing tones as he closed the distance between them. "Trying to trap me?"

Seeking to appease him, she held out the datacard. "Here, this is what you wanted."

Laire's eyes seemed to blaze in anger as he advanced several steps. "Don't try to work your way out of this one! How am I to know the data is even on this card?"

Genna pointed shakily to the blinking terminal a few feet away from him. "You can verify it there."

Keeping the blaster pointed squarely at her chest, Laire flicked his eyes in the direction that she pointed. Looking back at her he ordered, "You." He cocked his head in the direction of the terminal.

Genna moved tentatively across the room, practically feeling the blaster track her movements. When she reached the terminal, she slipped the card in. Instantly, the medical records flashed on the screen. "I don't know what you hope to accomplish. There's nothing on this screen that isn't already common knowledge, I'll have you know," she commented in an attempt to sound glib. She was rewarded with a sharp pain in her side as Laire pressed the blaster hard against her skin and leaned over to access the data.

"Is that so?" His tone was almost mocking. He keyed the terminal.

"Yes, most of the Alliance knows of his talents and abilities, as well as their origins," she replied.

Laire seemed to physically start in surprise. "Who would have thought the rebellion would be so open-minded?" he remarked softly.

"Why wouldn't they be?" she shot back, cocking her head so that her eyes met his.

"And who would have thought that you'd fall for this son of a Sith?" Laire snarled, his lips curled upward as he jabbed her again with the blaster. "Doesn't he frighten you?"

His words hit a chord. Yes, she'd been afraid of him once. But not anymore. "Why should he?"

Laire grinned in a manner both threatening and incredulous. Continuing to stare at the screen, he paused a moment, an eyebrow arching. "If it's such common knowledge, why don't his records proclaim the truth to the galaxy?"

"What are you talking about? Why would anyone publicize Jedi heritage in this day and age?"

"Hardly Jedi heritage, my dear," Laire chuckled a mere second before he met her eyes. There was something in them she couldn't quite understand, and he recognized the confusion in hers. "Ah," he intoned as though struck by a revelation. "You really don't know the whole truth, do you?"

Genna stared at him guardedly. "What truth?"

In reply, a thin-lipped, self-satisfied smile spread across his features. "The truth about your Sith-spawned boyfriend," he replied in a dark whisper, emphasizing the word "sith" as he spoke and indicating the screen before her.

Icy tendrils of fear shot through her as she stared at the screen. "I don't know what you are talking about," she breathed, although a small part of her brain seemed to be registering what he was hinting at, a part she wouldn't acknowledge.

"Then I doubt he does either," Laire quipped almost mockingly, indicating the unconscious youth on the floor. He leaned in closer to Genna. "However, I did a little investigating on my own. After all, I still have unlimited access to certain Imperial records, and friends in some pretty high places. This whole mission was laden with too many questions for my taste. Following a hunch, I used the resources at my disposal, and what do you know? My hunch might very well be right after all." He slipped another data card into the terminal.

"What's that?" Genna asked.

Laire chuckled. "The final piece of the puzzle, I presume."

Genna watched as he keyed the terminal and data scrolled across the screen, a part of her dreading the results of his twisted little search. What was he trying to prove?

Laire himself was engrossed in his project. He rubbed his chin and made small comments to himself in an amused fashion. "Hmm, midichlorians? What are those? Ah, look at these. My, my, isn't this intriguing?" He continued with his pseudo-monologue for a time before returning his gaze to her and asking, "Isn't it interesting that a man who claims to have Jedi heritage and states that his father was a famous Jedi Knight has no real proof of this claim? After all, what does it say here under father and mother? 'Father Unknown (possibly Anakin Skywalker?), Mother Unknown.' Possibly Anakin Skywalker? Does anyone really know? Could this be wishful thinking on his part, perhaps? Claiming the last name of a famous Jedi during the Clone Wars?"

"Do you have reason to doubt the possibility?" Genna shot back, angered at his insinuations.

"Only the fact that his data seems so much more closely related to that of another famous figure, although certainly no Jedi," he replied with a touch of amusement. "See for yourself."

Genna did as instructed, looking at two records listed side by side on the terminal screen, blinking at the similarities between them. Laire was right. Whoever the second person was, it was clearly a relative of Luke, there was no doubt in her mind. But who was this mysterious person, and why didn't anyone else know about it?

"You see it, don't you?"

Genna nodded. "Who is it?"

"Only the one man who could make it as difficult as it's been for me to find out the truth," he replied. "The one man who has spent the last several months trying to learn as much as he could about our mysterious Death Star assailant. The one man who dispatched a small handful of intelligence officers to track Skywalker once he was identified without explaining why he was being tracked and not captured, or why he was not to be harmed in any way."

Time seemed to stand still as Genna processed his words, her blood turning to ice in her veins. What he was saying could not be true. Was not true.

"Yes, my dear. It's none other than Lord Vader."

"No," Genna whispered, her voice a breathy sob. There was no way the young man she'd become so attached to could have anything to do with that masked monstrosity. It was not possible! Yet her own words came back to her. Hadn't she herself accused Luke of being like Vader because of his Force abilities? Hadn't she feared him because of what she'd seen Vader do with those same talents? Luke had put her fears to rest, though, claiming that he had nothing in common with the Sith Lord. He had appealed to her heart in sharing the tales of what had become of those closest to him at Vader's hands. He had seemed so honest. Surely, he had been telling her the truth. "You're deranged!"

"You seem so surprised," Laire sneered.

"Vader…Vader couldn't be," she stammered. "Vader killed his father."

Laire seemed amused. "Is that what he told you?"

"That's what he believes to be the truth!" Genna cried. "And it is!"

"Come, come, now," Laire admonished, "don't be so naïve. Think about it. It all makes sense now, doesn't it? Why else would Vader want him alive?"

Genna's mind searched frantically for holes in his argument. "If it's true, why isn't Luke with him? Why is he fighting for the Rebellion instead of standing at Vader's side? And why doesn't anyone know about this? Why doesn't Luke know?"

"Are you certain that he doesn't?" Laire countered in a tone so insidious that Genna found herself glancing at Luke as if to find the answer there.

"No," Genna said, shaking her head, still looking at Luke's prone form. "He doesn't know because it isn't true." Feeling anger and revulsion, she wheeled on Laire. "This is some sick ploy of yours to move yourself up through the Imperial ranks! Claim you found the long-lost son of Lord Vader and see what it gets you! Has it ever occurred to you that there might not be a conspiracy? That maybe Vader wants him because he wants to finish the job he started in eliminating the Jedi once and for all, and Luke's a threat? That maybe all your snooping and sniffing around fooled you into finding what you wanted to see, even if it isn't really there?"

There was silence a moment. Then Laire laughed, a deep menacing cackle that rattled her to her very core. "Ah, love is blind, isn't it?" he taunted. "You're allowing your heart to get in the way of what is clearly right in front of your eyes."

"Nothing is clear!" Genna retorted. "Of the two datacards in your possession, I know of only one that is accurate. The other, the one you claim belongs to Vader, is questionable!"

Laire continued to chuckle as he removed the datacards from the terminal and pocketed them in his jacket. "It's moments like these that make all the sacrifices I've endured on this mission worthwhile. It hurts you to think that the man you love might be the son of the very man who destroyed your home, sent you on this mission, and then betrayed you by executing those you thought you were working to save."

It was as though all the blood rushed from her body at his words. She had been betrayed. Her friends were already dead. All of this had been for nothing. She felt lightheaded, sick, cold, and empty.

"Ah yes," Laire went on, "now you know the truth. And I must say, it pleases me to see you like this. To watch you suffer in your knowledge of how you've been used and manipulated. You see, you are a traitor of the worst kind, and therefore must suffer in the worst way. Vader was ingenious in giving you this assignment, though I doubt even he could have predicted that you'd have fallen in love with Skywalker. And now of course, you know the truth about him, which hurts you even more."

Genna stared at him, a vague feeling of numbness creeping over her, as if her body was reacting to the shock of the emotional pain by shutting out all sensations. "So you've won," she said dully. "Congratulations." She looked away and walked toward Luke, aware that Laire's blaster was following her every movement. "What will happen to him?"

"Loverboy here is going with me," he responded glibly. "I don't foresee him dying any time soon, which is more than I can say for you. As much I'd love to prolong this moment, I'm afraid it is time to say goodnight, Ms. Cage."

"Go ahead," she replied, still staring at Luke as she dropped to her knees beside him. "I have nothing to live for anymore. You won. You've broken me. Isn't that what you wanted?" Yet, even as she spoke these words, her eyes fell on Luke's holster, and in that instant, a spark returned. Laire had disarmed Luke, but she suddenly realized that he had failed to confiscate her own blaster. Had it been an oversight, a mistake he'd made while he'd been gloating? In her own panic and shock, she hadn't even realized she'd been armed. Cursing her stupidity and the realization that she could have possibly drawn her blaster on him long ago, she shifted slightly. If she could get off a single shot, it might be enough to save Luke from this insane Imperial with his false truths. She would certainly die in the attempt, but hopefully Laire would, too. Then Luke would be saved, and he'd never have to find out about this twisted lie Laire was trying to make her believe. She kept her face downcast and emotionless.

"Come now, I was rather hoping you would plead for your life, actually," Laire responded in irritation. "Or at least argue on his behalf. You disappoint me, Cage."

"I'm not here to entertain you," she countered, trying to keep her voice level as she brushed Luke's cheek with one hand, while the other grasped his arm tenderly as it rested very close to her own blaster. "There's nothing I can do for him, anyway."

"No!" Laire suddenly shouted. Genna looked up at him in alarm, and he continued. "You've been spirited and defiant until now, and Force knows I wanted to crush that spirit! But I'll not let you die this easily, this willingly!"

"What would you have me do?" she argued, still keeping her voice toneless. "Fight?"

"Yes," he replied, licking his lips in anticipation. "I want to watch you struggle before I shoot you! I want to see desperation in your eyes!"

"Fine," she remarked softly, keeping her eyes fixed on him. "How's this for fight?" In one smooth motion, she drew her blaster and took aim.

Laire's eyes widened as he saw the blaster that was now pointed at him and reflexively fired. An instant later he collapsed on the ground, a smoldering hole in his chest where Genna's shot had hit its mark.

She watched him drop to the floor with deep satisfaction, knowing he was dead before he ever hit the ground. Then she, too, fell backward, unable to breathe because of the fiery pain in her own chest. Her eyes came to rest on Luke who lay sprawled beside her. She'd done it. She'd saved him. And then she smiled before her world went black.


	27. Chapter 27

Hearts Are Meant To: Chapter 27

By KnightMara

A/N: I know I'm evil for leaving you all hanging with that last chapter.  But wait, there's more!

Blaster shots!

There was no mistaking the sound that made its way toward Wedge's hiding place in the nearby kitchen. He bolted to his feet and moved to the door, drawing his own blaster as he thumbed his comlink. "Commander?"

There was a slight pause before the reply. "Narra here. What is it, Antilles?"

"Blaster shots in the officer's lounge," he answered. "I'm going to check it out."

"I'll call security," Narra replied. "Be careful."

"I will." Wedge thumbed off his comlink and stepped into the corridor. This section of the transport was completely deserted at this hour, and the emptiness gave Wedge a strange sense of unease. He moved silently toward the door to the lounge and pressed himself close to the wall, waiting to hear any sound from inside. There was nothing.

He waited a few moments more, but still there was no sound to be heard from the room. It was as though nothing at all existed on the other side of the door. Keeping himself pressed against the wall, he drew a deep breath and opened the door, training his blaster on the interior. Still he heard nothing, not even a slight rustle of movement. Not even the sound of a person breathing. Overwhelmed by a sudden feeling of dread, Wedge paused a moment before peering inside.

When he finally did, the sight that greeted him was straight out of a nightmare. Panic rose in his throat and he hastily called into his comlink, "Security and Medical! This is Wedge Antilles. I have three people down in 94, Officers Lounge! I repeat, three people down in 94! Copy?"

Several interminable seconds passed before he got a response. "I copy," a voice crackled back. "Medical and Security teams on their way."

"Wedge, who's down?" Narra's panicked voice demanded.

Wedge stepped into the room, trembling with each step. "Luke, Cage, and Laire," he answered shakily, struggling to keep his emotions under control. He moved swiftly to where Luke and Genna lay side by side. Luke was pale and still, but appeared otherwise unharmed. Cage, however, had a blaster burn that spread from her right shoulder to her right breast, and her face was ashen. He crouched down and reached a shaky hand to each neck, checking for a pulse, not sure what he would find. To his surprise and relief, Cage's was faint and thready, but she was alive. Luke's pulse was strong, though strangely erratic. "Luke and Cage are both alive, but Cage is in bad shape and her pulse is weak," he called into the comlink.

"What about Laire?"

Wedge looked up away from his fellow rogues toward the sprawled form of Laire. The man had a blaster wound to the heart and stared unseeing at the ceiling. Wedge couldn't help but feel a tinge of satisfaction that the man was dead. "No, sir," he replied.

A moment later a medical team rushed in. Wedge rose to his feet.

"Move back, please, sir," one of the medics said as he rushed toward Skywalker and Cage.

Wedge nodded and stepped aside, keeping an eye on his friends as he pointed toward Laire's body. "Laire, over there, is dead. But these two need help." He watched as one medic looked over toward the medic who had approached Laire in order to confirm what Wedge had said. The second medic nodded grimly.

Then the room became a flurry of motion as medical and security officers rushed to their various tasks. Wedge felt himself being led over to the couch, though his eyes never left Luke and Genna. Consumed with worry, he only half listened to the questions being asked by the security officer, and answered as briefly as possible.

"Do you know what was going on in here?"

Wedge responded tonelessly, "Genna and Luke were trying to gather evidence that Laire was an Imperial spy."

"Why was he suspect?"

"He approached Genna Cage to gather information for him because she was a former Imperial."

"Do you think she was still loyal to the Empire?"

"Not at all, which was why she was trying to trap Laire."

"Why was Skywalker involved?"

At that moment, Wedge was distracted by a shout by one of the medics. "Have you ever seen anything like this?" A couple of medics moved over the body of Cage. "Damn thing is probably the reason she's not dead right now, though it's burned right into her chest. We need to get her into a bacta tank right away to stabilize her until we reach Ithull." Wedge quickly realized they were talking about the recorder that Genna had strapped to her chest. Apparently, it had caught the full force of the blaster shot, which was why Genna wasn't in the same condition as Laire. Of course, whatever information she'd managed to record had been destroyed--not that it mattered anymore.

He called out to the medics, "She'd been trying to record her conversation with Laire."

"Don't think the recorder survived," one of the medics responded.

"Why was Skywalker involved?"

Wedge turned back to the security officer who had been questioning him. "Oh, sorry," he apologized. "He was trying to help her. Luke's that kind of guy, you know?" As soon as he answered, his eyes shifted to Cage. They were moving her from the room on a hoverstretcher, her body connected to various tubes and wires. As she was pushed through the door, Narra entered.

He paused in the doorway, watching Cage pass with a look of concern. Then he spotted Wedge and crossed the room to him. "Antilles, what happened?"

The security officer answered first. "We're trying to piece that together, sir."

"Genna was trying to record a meeting with Laire in order to trap him, while Luke waited outside for a chance to disarm him and call for help," Wedge explained. "Obviously, something went wrong."

"You knew about all of this?" Narra asked sternly.

"I did, sir," Wedge answered straightforwardly. "I was waiting down the hall in case they needed any help. That's when I heard the shots." He indicated the door. "They're taking Genna to the infirmary. She took a blaster bolt in the chest, though the recording device took the brunt of the shot."

"And Skywalker?"

Wedge shook his head. "Don't know, sir. Possibly stunned." He looked to Luke, then back to Narra. "I think one of us should follow Cage."

Narra nodded. "I'll go. Stay here with the others and keep me posted." He turned and hurried out, leaving Wedge alone to face the officer who had been questioning him.

Wedge looked over to where Laire had fallen, and saw that the man had been covered and was already being moved from the room. His glance then went back to Luke who was still being examined by two puzzled medics.

"Found it!" one of them finally exclaimed. "Burn mark, base of the skull."

"What caused it?" Wedge asked.

"High-powered stun, pressed right against the skin," the medic replied. "That's why his vitals keep fluctuating. Had me stumped for a minute there—these aren't your typical stun symptoms."

The officer who had been questioning Wedge turned to the medic. "So we can bring him out of it and find out what happened?"

The medic shook his head. "Nope, he'll have to come out of this on his own, and that may take a while. The stun beam originated at the base of his skull, it didn't just hit him there. If we try to bring him out of it before the effect wears off, well, he may be conscious, but I doubt he'll be coherent." The medic looked at Wedge and grinned wryly, shrugging his shoulders.

"Do it anyway," the officer ordered.

Wedge looked at the officer in alarm and then turned to the medic. The medic seemed to be giving the officer the same look, but then he shrugged his shoulders again and began to administer a hypospray stimulant. As he waited for it to take effect, Wedge only hoped Luke had seen enough to have something worthwhile to say.


	28. Chapter 28

Hearts are Meant To: Chapter 28

By KnightMara

A/N: Thanks for sticking with this story through the last 27 chapters. To those who have been reviewing, thank you times ten! It's great to get reviews, because feedback (honest feedback) is so important. I can't tell you the number of times I've changed or edited a story or chapter because of a reader's constructive criticism.

Déjà vu: I'm glad you like my characterization of Wedge. As you can tell, I'm a big fan of the Rogues, and Wedge is at the top of my list (with Wes Janson coming in a close second!).

Bjrn: Yeah, I know I'm evil. . . ..

Okay, so now on with the story:

8 8 8 8 8 8 8 8

Genna's eyes flared open as she was unexpectedly pulled back into consciousness. Her chest painfully protested the sudden urge to take in desperately needed oxygen as she took a deep, agonizing breath. Tortuous as it was, she could feel her body greedily drinking in the precious air that was at last flowing into her lungs. Fixed upon the ultimate goal of breathing, her mind was slow in coming back to reality. Something was calling her, begging her to respond. Her eyes were not yet registering what was going on around her. All she knew was that she was alive and breathing. Something told her that in itself was amazing.

There were voices, the droning sounds of verbal communication, but she couldn't isolate them from each other, even though she was fairly sure some of them were trying to communicate with her. It took some time for things to solidify enough in her consciousness for her ability to be aware of them.

She was on her back, and there was movement. She was being moved. There were people around her, but she couldn't focus on anyone in particular. They were moving too fast. Her chest felt like it was on fire, and her shoulder ached. She tried to swallow, but found that she couldn't. Something was in her throat. It hurt, and she wanted it out. She tried to move her hands. One was being restrained by a firm grip on her forearm, while the other was being clasped tightly in someone else's hand. She didn't know who was holding that hand, but she struggled against the grip to free it. She wanted to remove whatever was in her throat. The people around her wouldn't let her. She was being held down, pressed into the semi-soft surface of whatever it was she was lying upon. The grip on her hand became tighter. It squeezed as though the owner of the hand was trying to reassure her. Reassure her of what? Who was it? Where were they? And where were they going?

"Get her into the tank, now!"

The words assaulted her ears, which seemed to suddenly start functioning. She didn't like the sound of them. She tried to swallow, but once again found that she couldn't. She blinked her eyes, wanting to clear her vision. Nothing seemed to work right.

"She's fighting the respirator. We need to sedate her."

She felt slight pressure against her neck as a hypo was administered, and suddenly she was sinking back into oblivion.

8 8 8 8 8 8 8

At that very instant, Luke felt himself being violently pulled out of oblivion and into wakefulness. His eyes opened to stare at a ceiling above. What had just happened? Why was he on his back? At least he thought he was on his back, for he couldn't actually feel his body. His head seemed to be floating, staring upward at the faces of two strangers hovering over him. Odd. The last thing he remembered was . . . he was in a closet, waiting for Laire. No, wait! Laire was pressing a blaster against his neck. Why? He struggled to remember, though his head ached excruciatingly with each frantic beat of his heart. Wait, how could he feel his heart, if his body was numb? No, it wasn't numb; it was panicky. Like the tingly, jittery sensation of having a good scare. Almost numb, but not quite. But had he been scared? And what was Wedge doing here?

Frustrated and bewildered, he tried to ask Wedge what was going on. His brain thought, "What happened?" but his mouth wouldn't form the words. Something was wrong with the muscles in his face, his throat, and his body. He tried to reach for Wedge, but nothing happened. He couldn't move! Now he truly was panicking! What was wrong with him? Why couldn't he move? Had he been shot? No, if he'd been shot in the neck, he'd be dead. But why else was he paralyzed? Wedge appeared to be saying something, but his ears weren't registering the words. Luke stared up at his friend, confused and terrified. He couldn't move, speak, or hear! "Wedge, help me!" he thought, hoping his eyes conveyed his plea. He felt his heart racing in his chest as his mind swirled with questions. What was going on? Where was he? What happened to Laire?

Genna! With a jolt, Luke realized he didn't see Genna anywhere. She'd been with him, hadn't she? Yes, of course she had! She was supposed to meet Laire. But what went wrong? Why were his thoughts so disjointed? He looked at the faces above him for answers. They seemed to be discussing things amongst themselves.

"…warned you this could happen."

His ears had started working again! Thank the Force!

"He doesn't seem to be aware at all," Wedge was saying, eyeing one of the other two men with a worried expression.

Luke wanted to shout, "No, I'm aware! I can hear you! Please, just look at me again!" He'd never felt so helpless in his life. He needed to know what had happened to him; what had happened to Genna!

"Well, this is useless!" one of the other men growled. "Put him back under."

"I can't," the third man replied in irritation. "You just had me administer a stimulant. Combined with the effects of the stun beam, his body's pretty overwhelmed as it is. I'm not going to throw a sedative on top of it all!"

Stun! So that was it. He'd been stunned. So why couldn't he move or speak? This wasn't like any of the effects of a stun beam he'd experienced before. Unless it had something to do with the blaster pressed against his neck. Maybe Laire wanted to ensure he was incapacitated for a while, and he used a higher setting. Or maybe he'd fired while it was still pressed against his skin. That would explain the throbbing pain in his skull, he supposed. Now the question was how much time had elapsed since he'd been stunned. And where were Laire and Genna?

Fueled by desperation, he struggled to form a simple word. He needed answers, damn it! He needed to know what had happened to Genna after he'd been stunned. His thoughts were beginning to clear, and hers was the last face he recalled seeing before blacking out. If she'd been there when . . ..

Sweat beaded on his forehead as he pushed past the pounding headache and the reluctant muscles to speak. His jaw moved a little, and his tongue just enough to mouth the word, "Genna." The word was like a breath without voice, his larynx still paralyzed from the beam. But Wedge caught it.

The Corellian turned his gaze to Luke, shock in his eyes. "Luke?"

Luke struggled again to repeat the one word, hoping for an answer. Please, let him understand, he prayed.

As if in answer to his plea, Wedge's hand came to rest on his shoulder, relief in his features. "She's on her way to the infirmary, Luke. She'll be all right."

Luke could hear the subtle tremor of doubt in his voice and tried to ask, "What happened?" His lips wouldn't cooperate. His head throbbed at the effort.

"Do you remember what happened in here?" one of the strange men asked. He looked like an officer on the security force.

Luke grimaced. Even if he did remember, couldn't the man see he was having trouble speaking? He couldn't explain what had happened. Not now, anyway.

The third man, clearly a medic, asked, "Are you in any kind of pain?"

Luke stared at him, wanting to reply, "Only my head." In truth, the pain in his head was increasing with his struggle to communicate. He tried to nod, but a spasm shot through his neck. He winced as tears sprang unbidden to his eyes. So much for non-verbal communication.

"What's wrong with him?" Wedge asked the medic.

The medic patted Luke's shoulder and said to him, "It'll be all right, Luke. Just relax." He looked to Wedge. "Partial paralysis, caused by the scrambling of nerve impulses. A stun beam uses light energy to mimic the most basic nervous system response to an electrical pulse—a blackout. But it's usually not enough to cause this type of reaction. In his case, the beam was fired directly into the spinal cord, scrambling the whole nervous system. That's also why his heartbeat was so erratic. We'll have to keep an eye on him to make sure he doesn't have any other symptoms like chronic tachycardia, amnesia, headaches, persistent numbness, and such."

Luke stared up at the medic in dismay. "Oh, Force, no," he thought. He needed to find Genna, not stay under medical supervision. Again he struggled to speak. This time, however, he found his right arm flinching under the strain. Surprised, he opened and closed his fist. He was starting to move again. The muscles of his mouth twitched in something akin to a grimace. Feeling a bit more confident, he grabbed Wedge's sleeve with his right hand and slurred a whispered, "What happened?"

Wedge looked back down at him, a grim expression on his features. "Laire is dead, Luke," he said. "But Genna's been shot."

8 8 8 8 8 8 8 8 8 8

A/N: Yeah, I'm still pretty evil. . . ..


	29. Chapter 29

Hearts Are Meant To: Chapter 29

By KnightMara

--

Disclaimer: Blah blah blah Lucas blah blah not my universe blah blah blah blah see actual disclaimer on any previous chapters blah blah blah thank you.

And as Super Grover says, "Yes, on with the STORY!"

--

--

Several hours later, Wedge sat in the infirmary, cup of caff in hand, waiting to arrive at the Ithull base. He was exhausted, but sleep eluded him. Of course, the caff didn't help, but since he wasn't sleeping anyway, he might as well indulge a little. In truth, he was too anxious to sleep. Too much had happened in the small hours of the morning, and his brain was having a hard time sorting it all out. Especially considering the fact that no one was quite sure what had happened.

A few hours earlier, a still recovering Luke had brokenly confessed that the whole mess had been his fault. According to Luke, Laire had managed to draw him out of his hiding place in the utility closet, using vicious taunts and threats against Genna. Luke had been guided by emotion rather than logic, and had realized his mistake too late. When finally driven by anger into stepping out of hiding to attack Laire, he'd been quickly disarmed by the Imperial. To add insult to injury, Laire hadn't even been sure Luke was hiding in the first place, but had spoken the obscene taunts just in case Genna had tried to double cross him. It had worked, and now Genna was floating in bacta because of Luke's poor judgement.

Worse yet, they'd all realized that Genna was the only one who knew exactly what had transpired in that room. Luke had been stunned shortly after Laire brought him in at gunpoint. The recorder Genna had planned to use was a complete loss. Two datacards had been found on Laire, but both had fused together from the heat of the blaster shot, and they were unreadable. Luke had been able to identify one as his own medical records, but he had no idea what the second one could have been. Everyone realized that the mystery would have to wait be solved until after Genna awakened. If she awakened.

Her injury was alarmingly severe. The surgical droids had informed Wedge and Narra that she was stabilized for the moment, but that she required extensive surgery which could be life threatening in her weakened condition. Narra, himself, had gone with her to the infirmary, holding her hand in reassurance along the way, though she only partially regained consciousness en route and was likely unaware of Narra's presence. She hadn't come close to regaining any form of consciousness since. Narra had remained in the infirmary for a few hours, until exhausted and faced with filling out reports in the morning, he had retired to his quarters. Luke, shaken and guilt-ridden, had remained, although the toll on his own body had forced sleep upon him, and he now lay curled up in an uncomfortable-looking ball on one of the infirmary chairs.

Staring into his cup, Wedge felt the sudden shift in vibrations that signified that they had come into realspace. Wedge somehow always knew when he'd come out of hyperspace, whether asleep or awake. He often wondered why he always picked up on it, but it stood on record that he never missed a reentry. Pilot's intuition, he supposed.

As if on cue, a humanoid medic came out to greet him. Her amber eyes met his. "Sir, we've come out of hyperspace and are preparing to land on Ithull. We will then transfer your friend to the medcenter on the planet, which is much better equipped to handle this sort of trauma. You are free to go with her if you'd like."

Wedge managed a grateful smile in spite of his weariness. "Thank you."

The medic nodded and walked away.

Wedge glanced at the sleeping form of Luke, debating whether or not to wake him. Once the young commander had been able to move and speak again, he had refused any further medical treatment, in spite of the urging of the medical staff and droids. Wedge himself had tried to reason with him, but it was no use. Luke's only concern was with Genna, and he stubbornly refused to be placed in a position that would compromise his ability to rush to her side at a moment's notice. At length, everyone gave up trying to argue with him, and he had spent the evening waiting in the infirmary with Wedge. Wedge was grateful when Luke finally succumbed to his exhaustion, knowing that he desperately needed the rest. But now he also knew that Luke would never forgive him if Wedge went along with Genna alone.

Reluctantly, he rose from his seat and walked over to the young Commander, tapping him gently on the shoulder. "Luke," he whispered.

Luke bolted upright, jolted awake as though someone had screamed his name. His bloodshot eyes found Wedge, and he asked in a voice hoarse with sleep and the aftereffects of the stun beam, "What is it?"

"We're about to land," Wedge answered. "They're going to transfer Genna to the medcenter for surgery."

Luke nodded at him and rose from the chair, trying to stretch out cramped muscles as he looked around.

Wedge stared at him sympathetically. He'd truly had one hell of a day. Dark circles ringed Luke's blue eyes, his face was drawn and pale, his hair was tangled, and he looked half-dead. "You know, boss," he quipped, "you look terrible."

With a weary grin, Luke replied, "Well, I hate to say it, but you don't look so hot yourself, Antilles."

Wedge didn't imagine that he did. He ran a tired hand through his own tangled hair, knowing he must look as worn as Luke or worse. His leg muscles ached in fatigue, but he doubted he'd be getting any rest soon. For himself, and for Luke, it was not a time to rest, but a time to wait.

---

Genna was spared the agony of waiting. When she opened her eyes once more, it seemed mere moments since she'd closed them. She saw in her mind's eye the image of Laire collapsing to the ground, of Luke sprawled on the floor beside her as she struggled to take another breath. She saw the rush of blurry lights overhead as she was moved from that place. It seemed only a second ago that she'd opened her eyes to a world of pain and tubes, and the grasp of an unfamiliar hand upon hers. Now, she stared up at another blurry light above her, this one not moving, and she slowly allowed her eyes to bring the world around her into focus.

The first thought that entered her mind was, "What am I doing alive?" By all rights, she should be as dead as Laire, whose eyes had rolled back unseeing as he fell. She had taken a shot to the chest. She remembered the pain. An echo of it still resided across her right shoulder and breast, though she was too groggy to make any real assessment of the damage. She remembered struggling for air, blacking out as the loss of both blood and oxygen took their toll on her brain. How had she survived? And how had she survived with so much of her memory still intact? She seemed to remember everything that happened.

Everything. Even Laire's vicious lies.

Of course they had been lies, created by the sick fancy of a deranged man. He had allowed an obsession to govern his logic, turning fiction into fact by finding "evidence" to support his musings. Thank the Force Luke had been stunned through the ordeal. She hated to imagine what Laire's lies could have done to him. Luke seemed to recoil from the very name of the Sith Lord. If he knew that Laire thought that . . ..

No, she wouldn't even think it. The whole thing was an absurd falsehood.

But why had he said it? Why gloat over such a ridiculous assumption? Nagging doubts filled her. She'd been afraid of Luke once. Afraid that his powers could be used as Vader's had been. Could there be a connection? And whose records had Laire shown to her if not Vader's? The data had matched Luke's so closely, it had to be a relative. But who? And did Luke know of this stranger's existence? Should he be told?

Or did he already know? Hadn't the entire conversation been recorded?

Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a door being opened. Genna turned her head to see who it was, surprised to find her neck incredibly stiff. It felt as though she'd been lying here for days.

A medical droid entered and crossed to her bedside. "Good evening. I see that you are finally awake."

Genna tried to reply, but her voice was weak from disuse and her ribs ached with the effort to draw in enough air to speak. She opted to nod.

"Are you in any pain?"

She shook her head. She was stiff and she ached, but plagued by nothing she would call real pain.

"Short of breath?"

She nodded. Why else was she refusing to speak?

"That is to be expected. After all, we had to perform extensive surgery on your ribs and the surrounding muscle. The soreness should begin to fade in a day or so, and you'll find that your lung capacity will improve."

Genna smiled weakly at the droid.

"Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to record your vitals and perform a few simple tests." The droid rounded the bed and moved to a data terminal on the opposite side. As she followed his movements, her eye caught the movement of a door and she watched as a familiar form strode into the room.

"It's good to see you awake again, Cage," Commander Narra said with a relieved grin. "How are you feeling?" he asked gently.

She gave a half smile and attempted to respond. "Sore," she managed in a broken whisper. The effort sent a dull ache through her chest and shoulder, and she winced slightly. The droid noted this as it continued to record her data.

Narra grimaced in sympathy. "Don't speak then."

But she had to speak. There were so many questions. She took a slow breath. "Luke?" she asked, hoping he'd understand.

He did. "Mission," he answered with a frown. "We had to send him out two days ago."

What? Why would they send him away? Why wasn't he here?

Narra must have seen the disbelief in her eyes, because he explained hastily, "He didn't want to go, Cage. You should have seen him. He even argued with General Rieekan—so did I, actually—but it was no use. The Rogues were sent out to meet up with Captain Solo and the Princess and escort them home. And this after Luke hadn't slept in days. He was so worried about you. We had to kick him out of the medcenter repeatedly, and you know how much he hates this place."

His words reassured her. If Luke was on a mission, they must not have heard about Laire's twisted scheme. If so, then what had happened? And why was she even alive? She looked over at the departing medical droid and took another slow breath. "How did I survive?"

"The blaster bolt hit the recorder instead of hitting you full in the chest. They had to surgically remove it, but it saved your life. Of course, it was a total loss. Nothing could be salvaged from it, so the investigators have been waiting for you to wake up so you could tell them what happened." He paused. "Laire's dead."

"I know," she replied, letting some of the relief she felt at his other news color her words. No one knew. No one knew what Laire had been trying to prove or about the lies he'd tried to get her to believe. No one knew. "Guess I'm lucky I wore that thing," she added with a grin.

Narra chuckled softly. "Thinking like a true Rogue."

His words gave her pause. That's right, she was a Rogue. One of Luke's pilots. So much had happened, she'd nearly forgotten. Would she be able to fly under his command, after everything they'd been through together? Would their romantic involvement get in the way of their working relationship?

Would she wonder in the heat of a battle whether Laire had spoken the truth?

She shuddered involuntarily, bringing a look of deep concern to Narra's face.

"What's wrong?" he asked. "Do you want me to bring the droid back?"

She shook her head, dismissing the question. "How long was I out?"

"A week," he answered simply.

She arched her eyebrows in shock. "A week?"

Narra nodded. "We weren't sure whether you were going to pull through. The investigators have been getting impatient, though. They'll want to interview you as soon as possible now that you're awake. They need information on Laire. What he told you, what was on the second disk. That sort of thing."

"Second disk?" She'd forgotten all about it.

"It fused to the first one when you shot him. No one knows what's on it." He paused. "Do you?"

She shook her head. "No," she lied. "But I'll tell them what I do know."

Narra smiled gently. "If you need me to be here for you, just send for me. Those guys can be a little unnerving."

Genna returned his smile gratefully. "Thanks, Sir."

He patted her leg and moved from the bed. "I'll let you get your rest, which sounds rather funny now that you're awake at last." He chuckled. "I'll be back to check on you, later."

Watching him leave, she suddenly felt a deep sense of dread. She'd be questioned. What would she say? She'd have to tell them what happened. And she would. She'd tell them everything they needed to know.

But not the lies. She would never repeat the lies. Not even to Luke.

Especially not to Luke.

--

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**A/N:** Please, be kind and review. . . at times I feel like I'm writing this story for an audience of two people. . .and to **Deja** and **Bjrn**, I really, really appreciate all of the feedback you've given.

Remember, constructive criticism is always welcome. We writers long to improve (at least I know I do), and for some of us, fanfiction is a way to hone the craft for future, original works. The more you review and critique, the more we can learn.

Steps off soapbox for now. heheh


	30. Chapter 30

Hearts Are Meant To: Chapter 30 

By KnightMara

Disclaimer: Do I really have to give it again?

**A/N**: Well, folks, there's only this chapter left and an epilogue. Thanks for sticking around with this story for so long . . . thanks for the reviews and the feedback. I'm not much of an AU enthusiast (unless it's a very well-written AU, which I've seen here and there), and I don't write AU, so that should tell you something . . . dun dun dun!

V**ilya0**: I'm glad you think I've kept Luke in character. I try, really, I do. As far as your questions regarding Laire, both he and Narra both hold the rank of Commander, though Laire is the XO on board the cruiser and in charge of the mission while Narra is in charge of the newly formed Renegade Squadron. Luke is subordinate to both in military rank. (BTW, Narra is not my character—he's a minor player in the time period between ANH and ESB, but he's important in the history of Rogue Squadron. Laire I made up.)

**Bjrn**: Dark and ominous indeed. And I accept your aversion to constructive criticism. Even I sometimes just want to say "I like this," or "I don't like this," and be done with it. It's okay in my book.

**Pip**: Thanks. Genna is my first major OC, so I'm glad that she fits in and complements Luke's character. My biggest fear when I started this story was that she would fall into the "Mary Sue" category of OCs. I worked extra hard to prevent that from happening.

**Neo-Paladin: **I'm glad you popped back in to review. Thanks!

**Deja: ** Sadly, there's not much left. . . almost done now. I hope I don't disappoint with my ending.

Near the end, I "borrowed" a line from the ESB radio-drama. So, I'll add to my disclaimer that Brian Daley owns that line. (A gold star for those who recognize it.)

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---

"You can't be serious!" Narra was pacing back and forth furiously in the General's office. He couldn't believe they were forcing this on him. Rieekan and Fen both sat watching him, their expressions clearly conveying their strictly businesslike attitudes.

Rieekan spoke first. "She's too great a risk in this capacity. Imperials may try to contact her again, and if that is the case, her connection to Skywalker could be disastrous."

"We need the potential Jedi among us, Narra," Fen added. "With the Force on our side, we can win this war. Cage represents a threat to our hope."

"Aren't you being a little over-dramatic?" Narra shot back. "After all, look at what happened! Cage neutralized the infiltrators, and nearly gave her life doing so! And now you see her as a threat?"

"You make a valid point," Rieekan nodded. "She did nearly lose her life trying to save Skywalker's. And that is precisely why we need to move her away from the Rogues. She, too, is at risk through her contact with him."

"I can transfer her back to the Renegades," Narra suggested, a hint of desperation in his voice.

Fen shook his head. "Narra, you know our fighter squadrons work side by side in battle. Contact would still exist."

Narra was fuming. "Would you have me give up one of my best pilots?"

"For the sake of another whose record is astonishing and who possesses Force-enhanced skills?" Rieekan argued. "Yes. We need Skywalker, I fear more so than Cage."

"Cage has talents best employed elsewhere," Fen supplemented.

Narra held his gaze a moment, startled. "What do you mean?"

"I mean she's alive today because she had the sense to break into a secured area, steal one of our most advanced data recording devices, and attempt to record a conversation with a suspected spy while protecting the life of one of our finest pilots," Fen explained. "All without the aid of any Alliance officials."

"What are you saying?" Narra demanded.

"We're saying," answered Rieekan, "that Cage is a highly skilled pilot, as befits her training in the Imperial Academy. However, given specialized training to enhance the aptitude witnessed during the Laire incident, she could become a highly skilled intelligence agent."

"What are you talking about?" Narra argued. "The whole thing was botched!"

"And Skywalker has admitted that he was mostly to blame," Rieekan countered. "And consider the fact that Cage is entirely untrained. What she accomplished without prior experience or even time to really sit down and plan is remarkable. Trained, she could be formidable."

Narra stared at the faces of the two generals, knowing he was not going to win this argument. Defeated, he sank into a chair and asked, "What is your plan?"

"We're moving her out immediately," Fen replied. "Alliance intelligence has a secret base of operations that has been hidden for years. There, she will receive the training she requires and will be put to use."

"But isn't it too soon? She only just regained consciousness," Narra tried to reason.

"And you are the only person aware of this as far as we know," Fen stated. "Which is why you are privy to this information. Otherwise you'd be hearing from us what you will tell the members of Rogue Squadron, Renegade Squadron, and Commander Skywalker--that Cage succumbed to her injuries and passed away this morning."

Narra stared at them in disbelief. They couldn't mean it.

"No one is to know that she's alive or where she's gone," Fen continued, ignoring the look of shock on Narra's face. "Which is why, for all anyone is to know, Genna Cage does not exist."

"But Skywalker . . . he's grown very close to her," Narra stammered.

Rieekan looked at him grimly. "I'm sorry. He can't know that she's alive." He paused with a sigh. "He's suffered greater losses before this. He'll come through it."

Feeling cold and sickened, Narra could only stare at the two Generals in front of him, dreading the duty before him.

--

It was a weary Luke Skywalker who climbed out of his X-wing two days later. The experience of working with Han and the Princess on this mission had reinforced what he already believed to be true: Hoth was a Force-forsaken ice cube. Yet, the Alliance had already come to the decision that no one would think to look for them there, and Luke grudgingly had to agree. At the moment, however, he had more pressing matters on his mind.

He pulled off his flight helmet and tucked it under his arm as he made his way out of the hangar. As he walked, he caught sight of Narra coming to meet him. A greeting froze on his lips as he noted the expression on the man's face. It drew him up short and caused his stomach to do a sickening roll. With a white-knuckled grip on his helmet, he forced his feet to cross the distance between himself and his commanding officer and stared at him, unable to ask the question that been on his mind when he'd first climbed out of his fighter.

Narra, too, seemed unable to speak. Instead he met Luke's gaze with a look of great sorrow and sympathy, one that answered the unspoken question. At length, seeing the understanding in Luke's own eyes, he said, "I'm sorry, Luke."

Luke dug his fingers hard enough into his helmet to cause pain, though he felt nothing. His body trembled slightly; his lips moved, but there was no voice. Suddenly, his legs lost their ability to support him, and he sank to the floor engulfed by a sense of loss. His helmet clattered against the hard ground and rolled out of his numbed fingers unnoticed. Narra crouched beside him, placing a hand on his shoulder and saying words Luke couldn't hear or understand.

Genna was gone.

Not another. Force help him, not another loss! Not another person torn from him too soon!

The sickening feeling in his stomach was making it hard to breathe. He was gasping, his breath coming in sobs. Yet there were no tears. He was from Tatooine. He did not cry.

But he grieved. Then and there, on the deck of the hangar, in front of his commanding officer, he drew his trembling legs to his chest with his numbed arms and gave way to grief he was too exhausted to fight. His body shook as he gasped for breath, his insides on the verge of rebellion. He didn't even notice the approach of two others.

"What happened?" the familiar voice of Leia asked gently.

Narra's reply was soft and filled with sorrow. "Genna's gone."

Hearing those words spoken for the first time was like a physical blow. Luke doubled over, pressing the heels of his hands to his eyes as a million thoughts and questions clamored in his brain. Had she known how much he cared? Had she suffered? Had she regained consciousness at all, wondering why he wasn't there? Had she felt abandoned by him? Betrayed by him? Had she hated him for the mess he had made? Had she held him responsible for her death? Guilt overcame him, and a low moan escaped his lips. "It's all my fault."

"No, Luke," Narra hastened to respond. "It's not your fault."

"What happened?" It was Han's voice. Luke hadn't even registered the fact that the former smuggler was there.

Narra continued to look at Luke as he answered. "It was sudden, unexpected. She never regained consciousness. Quick and painless, the medics said. She didn't suffer."

The words registered consciously, but they did nothing to ease the pain or the guilt that threatened to overwhelm him. Not now. Not yet. Dimly, Luke felt Leia's arms slip around his shoulders, and he sank into her embrace, tearlessly shaking in her arms. Yet even as he grieved, a part of his mind was steeling itself, resolving to seek vengeance. He'd lost too many, suffered too much.

It was time for the Empire to pay.

--

"It's a lousy way to step into someone's shoes, Luke--I know. But you can handle the job. That's why you've got it."

Han's words replayed themselves in Luke's mind as he fastened his thermal gear in preparation for Hoth's frigid terrain. It still seemed so unreal. Just moments ago, he'd been promoted to Commander. Just moments ago he'd learned that the entire Renegade Flight had been lost trying to protect a convoy of supply ships from Derra IV. Just moments ago, he'd stepped into Narra's shoes in the same instant he'd been notified of the man's death.

He was numb, and it wasn't just from the cold. Narra was gone, and now Luke was in command. And he didn't think he was ready, no matter what Han had said.

"You ready, kid?"

Luke glanced at the Corellian smuggler standing in his doorway and replied, "Just about." He was supposed to join Han on a trek out into the ice plains to place sensors along the base perimeter. They would be riding Tauntauns, as the techs had been having difficulty adapting the speeders to Hoth's icy temperatures. He reached for his gloves and was in the process of pulling them on when he noticed that Han was staring at him intently. "What?"

"You okay?" Han asked, his tone unusually serious.

Luke nodded in reassurance. "Yeah. It's just a little hard to take in, ya' know?"

"Sure, kid," Han replied, the same unexpected solemnity in his voice.

Upon hearing Han's reply, Luke chuckled mirthlessly. "I used to wonder about you, how you could seem so hard and uncaring," he said, fastening the seals of his gloves as he spoke. "I didn't understand back then. I didn't realize how much it hurts to care about people. How easy it is to lose someone. I mean, for eighteen years, I never lost anybody. The people in my life were always there, ya' know? But now . . .." His voice trailed off and he took a deep breath. "I've lost more people in the past two years than I ever thought possible. And it doesn't stop hurting. I guess it's easier not to care."

"Don't say that, Luke!" Han said suddenly, his voice surprisingly harsh. "Don't you ever stop caring! It's what makes you special, kid!"

"I thought you said it's what made me soft!" Luke countered.

Han shifted uncomfortably. "Yeah, well, that's before I realized there was some good in caring. Not that I'm about to rush out into one of these blizzards to save someone's life or anything—I'll leave that type of insane heroism to you." He smiled wanly.

Luke tried to return the weak smile, but didn't quite succeed. "I just don't know how much more I can take. I mean, I continually let myself care, and my heart inevitably breaks. I mean . . . this business with Narra, I . . . I don't know. It's made all the hurts from before come back. All the heartbreak." Like Genna, he thought to himself, and a deep pang penetrated the numbness.

Han picked up on Luke's unspoken thought. "Well, you know what they say, kid," He quipped, placing a comforting arm around Luke's shoulder. "Hearts are meant to be broken."

Involuntarily, Luke shivered. "I've heard that one before," he said softly.

Sensing Luke's somber mood, Han added, "Yeah, it ranks right up there with 'It's better to have loved and lost than to never have loved at all.' Well, I've loved and lost, and I can't say I'm all that better for it."

"Me neither," Luke whispered, his voice tinged with sadness. In the months since Genna had so cruelly and unexpectedly disappeared from his life, the pain had refused to subside. Only to himself would he admit how much she had meant to him, and how much the loss of her presence had wounded him. He doubted he would ever meet another woman like her, or that he would ever care that much again. He didn't think he'd be able to take it.

Han must have sensed Luke's mood, for he gave the young commander's shoulder a playful punch before saying, "Well then let's forget our loves and losses with a joyful excursion onto the snow-covered plains of Hoth! Frostbite awaits!"

At that, Luke chuckled slightly. "How cheery! Han the Optimist! Of course, don't show Leia this side of you. She just might be swept of her feet!"

"That's the plan, Junior," Han laughed, leading Luke toward the North Entrance where their tauntauns awaited them.

--

--

And segue to The Empire Strikes Back!

**A/N**: Again please review and let me know what you think. . . there is an epilogue to follow.


	31. Chapter 31: Epilogue

Hearts Were Meant To: Epilogue 

By Knight Mara

Well, this is it . . . the final installment. I'm still playing with George Lucas's characters, and own none of them, although I often wish I did.

**VilyaO: **And here I thought I was the only tauntaun lover! Yabu-yabu (as Toyfair Magazine described the sound they make)! You should check out the ESB radio-drama. Some cool Han/Luke friendship scenes in there. And of course, Mark Hamill, Anthony Daniels, and Billy Dee Williams reprising their film roles is a good enough reason to listen in. (The ROTJ one was not as good because all but Anthony Daniels backed out).

**Déjà Vu:** Don't we all just want to give Luke hug? The poor guy just goes through one thing after another. Like McCaffey said in A Few Good Men, "And the hits just keep on comin'." You'll just have to read on now, won't you? (hehe, I'm evillll)

**Reagan64: **Thanks for popping in to review again. As far as your comment goes, remember that all but this epilogue is pre-ESB, untrained Luke. We're so used to seeing him as a Jedi, it's hard to remember that in ESB he still believed the "certain point of view" lie that Obi-wan told him. He's not adept at reading truths yet.

**jjonahjameson: **I'm sorry I had to bring this to a close, but I'm glad you've enjoyed it. I like Wedge, too, so it's good to know that I've succeeded in writing him. My biggest fear is always getting a character "wrong." (I'm glad you're enjoying my other stuff, too.)

**Bjrn: **That's why there's an epilogue. You know I wouldn't leave you hanging like that. After all, Genna is my character (yes, Lucas, I own her. . hehehe), so I had to finish her story arc. Hope it meets with your approval.

**A/N: **It is not necessary to have read Truce at Bakura to understand the epilogue, though it takes place immediately after that book. All that is needed is the knowledge that Luke was wounded (yet again) near the end of the book, which begins the day after the destruction of the Second Death Star, and that Luke had fallen in love with a woman named Gaeriel, who broke his poor wittle heart.

--

--

Epilogue: Alliance Fleet Orbiting the Endor Moon, after the Mission to Bakura…

"I'm telling you I'm fine!"

The Two-Onebee droid looked at his patient skeptically--if it was possible for a droid to look skeptical--before turning back to his data pad. "Sir, you were instructed to rest on your own or be sedated and immersed in bacta. General Solo has informed me that you did not get adequate rest on your mission to Bakura, and that you suffered injuries to your lungs and leg in battle."

Luke Skywalker turned his ice blue gaze on the Correllian standing casually in the corner. "Han!" he cried, irritation and disbelief at Han's betrayal evident in his voice.

Han merely shrugged. "Sorry, kid," he said. "Her Worshipfulness insisted that I stick with her on this one . . . and you know I'm tryin' to stay on her good side." He favored Luke with a lopsided grin.

Luke drew an exasperated breath and turned back to the droid. "I rested most of the way back from Bakura, and my injuries are practically healed. I'm not checking myself in for any further treatment and that's final!"

"Stop whining, kid," Han teased with a chuckle.

Again, Luke shot the former smuggler an angry glare, but he said nothing.

At that moment, a young man wearing an officer's uniform stepped into the examining room. All eyes on the room turned on him as he spoke authoritatively, "I have been sent to escort Commander Luke Skywalker to Alliance High Command immediately."

Han and Luke exchanged confused glances before Luke spoke, "I am Luke Skywalker."

"Come with me, sir," the young officer barked.

Luke promptly complied, eager to get away from the scrutiny of the medical droid and his best friend's watchful eye. "Do you know what this is about?" he asked as he followed the officer toward the shuttle bay.

"No, sir, I do not," the officer replied curtly.

Something in the tone of the young man's voice persuaded Luke to remain silent throughout their journey from the Medical Frigate to Home One. However, Luke's mind was far from silent. What in the Force had prompted Alliance High Command to summon him? A cold knot of dread had begun forming in the pit of his stomach as his mind flashed to the possibility that they'd learned what he'd refused to disclose. Were they planning to question him about the events on the Death Star? Would he be called up on charges of withholding sensitive information regarding his parentage from those he should have told? Would he be forced to reveal Leia's relationship to him as well?

Or was he just being paranoid?

The rational portion of his brain reminded him that he had not yet been debriefed about the situation on Bakura, and that he was likely being summoned as part of standard procedure.

But High Command?

With questions still swirling about in his head, he stepped off the transport shuttle and walked beside the officer until they reached a pair of large, closed doors. The young officer paused beside him, indicating that Luke was to enter alone. Apprehensively, Luke opened the doors and walked into surroundings that were not exactly what he expected.

The large doors opened into a comparatively small room—an office to be exact. Within, two chairs sat facing a solitary desk, the occupant of which was smiling at him warmly.

"You summoned me, Mon Mothma?" Luke spoke with a slight bow, trying to keep the confusion out of his voice and barely succeeding.

"Commander," she greeted him, nodding toward one of the two chairs. "Please have a seat."

Wordlessly, Luke crossed the room and sat down in the chair she had indicated.

"I imagine you are rather curious as to why you have been brought here," Mon Mothma began once he was seated. "I felt that it would be best to meet with you here, in a more personal fashion, especially when dealing with such sensitive information."

All at once, Luke found it difficult to swallow, and he could feel his heart pounding in his ears. Masking any expression on his face, he took a deep breath through his nose and released his anxieties. Breaking into a panic would do him no good, though it seemed that his worst fears were being confirmed.

Further doubt was erased as she continued, "It has come to my understanding, Commander, that you have not been exactly forthcoming in terms of your activities on board the Death Star and your reasons for allowing yourself to be taken captive. Am I correct in that assumption?"

Luke nodded, swallowing in a throat gone terribly dry. "Yes, Madam."

"Would you care to enlighten me on these issues, then, Commander?" she pressed, leaning her delicate frame slightly forward.

Trying to steady his racing pulse, Luke lowered his gaze a moment before replying, "Perhaps it would help if you told me what you already know."

Mon Mothma nodded her head and leaned back in her chair once more. "During your trip to Bakura, an investigation into your activities during the Battle of Endor was begun. Testimony from several sources, including that of Commander Antilles and General Calrissian, seemed to confirm our initial trust in your loyalty to the Alliance. Although you allowed yourself to be captured, it was believed that you had gone on some Jedi crusade to face the Emperor himself, though none of us clearly understood why. After all, even I do not presume to know the ways of the Jedi, and I was alive during the glory days of the Old Republic." She paused for a moment. "However, one of our intelligence operatives came to me with a piece of information she had encountered shortly before our relocation to Hoth. Our operative never gave it much thought, for she could not confirm the validity of this information, but I was hoping you could. It is, after all, something of a rather personal nature."

Luke shut his eyes for a moment, seeking the calm within. "You are referring to my parentage." It was not a question.

"Indeed."

Drawing a deep breath, Luke opened his eyes and focused on the woman before him. This was the moment of truth, the moment in which he revealed to the Alliance what he had revealed to only a precious few. A part of him wondered what would happen once they knew the truth, but he couldn't hide from his past any longer. He had confronted it on the Death Star, in that moment when he had seen how deep the still waters ran that linked him to his father, when he had renounced the Darkness and embraced the Light, nearly paying for his choice with his life. He had faced it when he watched the dark man his father had become disappear in that defining moment, when the servant destroyed the master, and Anakin Skywalker became whole again. And he had embraced it when he looked into the eyes of a dying man, a man who had risked everything for the son he barely knew and had sought forgiveness from the daughter he had never seen with his own eyes. Luke Skywalker would not—could not—back away from that truth now.

"I can confirm only this," he said, his voice soft but unwavering. "I am the son of Anakin Skywalker, a Jedi who was consumed and destroyed by the Dark Side more than twenty years ago. And during my lifetime, until the moment he gave his own life to save mine aboard the Death Star, he was known as Darth Vader."

It was hard not to miss the slight stiffening of Mon Mothma's posture in response to Luke's declaration. But he'd said it, and there was no turning back, not that he'd want to anyway. He'd made his peace with the truth. Now he could only wait to see what others would do with it.

"How long have you known of this?" the Alliance leader asked quietly.

Luke sighed and lowered his gaze. "Vader told me himself at Bespin, but I refused to believe it for a long time. In fact, it wasn't until just before the mission to Endor that I learned that he spoke the truth."

"Vader took your hand at Bespin, did he not?" Mon Mothma asked, clearly dismayed.

"Yes," Luke replied. "I lost my hand, my saber—he made that lightsaber, did you know that?" He paused, not really expecting an answer before he continued, "Ben—Obi-wan Kenobi, I mean—gave it to me. He told me that it belonged to my father, and that my father had been murdered by Darth Vader. Ben had a way of telling the truth from 'a certain point of view,' as he put it. I, of course, took him literally . . . until Bespin." There was another pause, and another sigh. Then Luke plowed on. "On Bespin, Vader told me he was my father, and then he tried to convince me to join him . . . said we could destroy the Emperor and rule the galaxy together. I refused. I chose death instead. I would have died, had the Falcon not rescued me. And for a long time, I wished I had died."

The silence from Mon Mothma pulled his gaze upward, and he met her shaken expression. Apparently she hadn't expected him to reveal all this when she summoned him.

Still holding her gaze, he added, "Then I realized that I had to go on. I owed it to the Alliance, to my dearest friends who had rescued me, to the Jedi who had died for their devotion to the light, and to those who had struggled to survive so that I might bring back that light."

Finding her voice, Mon Mothma asked, "Then why did you leave the strike team on Endor?"

"Because I could never be a true Jedi unless I faced Vader again," he answered, "and because of my presence in the Force. He knew where the team was. He could sense it because he could sense me. I had to surrender—to save the mission, and to save the Jedi. I had to bring Vader back to the light, or die trying."

"But you were his son," she interrupted. "Did you never feel loyalty toward him?"

"Not to Vader, no," Luke answered simply. "My father was Anakin Skywalker, a Jedi. Vader was corrupt, evil, a servant to the Emperor. How could I feel any compassion for that? No, I wanted to bring Anakin back from wherever he'd gone while Vader existed. That was all."

"And you succeeded?"

Luke nodded, his throat constricting. "He died saving my life. He killed the Emperor because the Emperor nearly killed me. In the end . . . in the end, he was Anakin Skywalker again, not Vader. Not the monster who'd killed the Jedi, my family, my friends, and scores of others. Not the vile thing that tormented Leia on the first Death Star. No, that man was destroyed the moment Anakin Skywalker felt compassion, when he gave his own life for mine."

A long silence followed. Luke had run out of things to say, though he felt he'd only just tapped the deep well of emotion he had yet to come to terms with. He fisted his hands to stop them from trembling. How could the feelings still be so raw after a month? Were these all because of Endor, or were more recent events contributing to the turbulence of his emotions? Had a second heartbreak on the heels of Endor been too much to bear?

"With your permission, I'd like to keep this information strictly confidential."

Mon Mothma's words broke into his thoughts unexpectedly, and Luke blinked uncertainly at her. "Madam?"

"Emotions are too high at the moment," she explained softly. "Revealing your parentage would serve no purpose and could only have negative results. However, it was necessary for you to confirm all this, as now I can be sure of your devotion to the Alliance throughout your service. After all, I'm sure you can understand how the news of your possible relationship to Darth Vader might bring your decision to be taken to the Death Star into question."

"I can," Luke agreed, a hint of relief creeping into his voice. "But if I may ask, how are you so certain of my loyalty? You only asked me a few questions."

"You revealed much more than what you were asked, and in a manner that attests to your truthfulness as opposed to some rehearsed speech," she responded. With a wink, she added, "Remember, I've spent most of my life in politics. I'm pretty savvy when it comes to liars, even without that Force of yours."

Luke felt himself ease into the first real smile of the day. "Thank you for your trust and confidence."

"My pleasure, Commander," she said, returning the smile. "I see the return of the Jedi in your eyes, Luke Skywalker, and with them the rise of a New Republic."

Her words, though meant as encouragement, left Luke feeling rather burdened. Yoda had said as much on Dagobah when he called Luke the last of the Jedi and instructed him to pass on what he had learned. However, Mothma's phrasing had placed a vast amount of responsibility on his shoulders, responsibility he was not sure he was ready to handle just yet. There was still so much he needed to learn. "I will try my best to live up to your expectations," he said somberly.

Mon Mothma rose from her seat saying, "I know you will."

Taking his cue, Luke stood as well and gripped her proffered hand in a grasp that conveyed more confidence than he felt. He gave her a quick salute before turning toward the door. Halfway to the door, he stopped abruptly as a sudden question sprang to mind. "Mon Mothma?"

"Yes?"

His gaze met hers as he ventured, "You said your operative found out about all of this before Hoth. How is that possible when I only first learned of this from Vader himself long after Hoth had been evacuated?"

Mon Mothma folded her hands in front of her and replied, "She said she came upon it quite by accident, and that the source was sketchy at best. It was ignored for quite some time, for she felt she could not give this source any credence until something more substantial came to the surface."

"My departure from Endor," Luke spoke in understanding.

"Exactly," she replied with a slight nod.

"But what was this source? Who knew about this besides Vader and Kenobi?"

A new voice spoke from behind him. "I did."

Luke spun around at the sound and, for a moment, he thought he was looking at a ghost or a vision. He could feel the blood pool in his feet as he stammered, "Genna?"

--

Genna was struggling to keep up with Luke's rapid strides as he made his way back to the shuttle bay. "Luke, wait! Please! Hear me out!"

Though she had hoped for the best, she'd known he probably wouldn't take this well. She hadn't quite expected him to storm out of the office of one of the Alliance's most prominent leaders without a word, however. After all, from what she'd gathered in the year spent working intelligence, he had matured and mastered some control over his emotions. Apparently, that control was still fragile—especially when tested in such a manner.

Luke still refused to slow down or regard her pleas.

"Luke!" she continued to shout after him. "Damn it, Luke! Stop!"

With an abruptness that startled her, he spun around. His blue eyes flashed brilliantly in a face gone much too pale. "What?"

Genna swallowed. At least he was acknowledging her now. "Please, let me explain all of this."

"Explain what?" he demanded, advancing a step. "Explain how you kept this from me? About how you knew all this time and never bothered to tell me? About how you faked your own death and left me alone to feel heartbroken and miserable and responsible and wretchedly guilty?"

"Luke, I didn't know," Genna hastily interrupted. "I didn't know about Vader. I didn't believe it." At Luke's dubious glare, she went on, "I didn't! Laire told me, the day he shot me. He showed me data that was too ridiculous to be true. He told me, and then he died, and the evidence was destroyed so I had nothing to make me believe it was anything but a twisted lie! Believe me, I wanted to forget!"

The face that stared back at her was one of stone. There was no forgiveness there, nor was there understanding. In fact, there was no emotion whatsoever. "And your 'death'?" The last word was delivered dripping in sarcasm.

"Command," she replied, desperate to reach him. "They moved me to a secret location before I was even recovered. I didn't know what was going on, I swear to you! They didn't want me flying anymore! Instead, they forced me into intelligence! Forced me, Luke! Everything that defined who I was—my identity—was suddenly gone! They wanted me as far away from you as possible, and the only way they thought to do that was to tell you that I was dead. And there was nothing I could do, Luke! Believe me, if I could have done anything, I would. But after everything that had happened . . . with Laire . . . eventually I came to realize it was for the best." She paused, taking a step closer and looking deep into his blue eyes. "I was prepared to die to protect you when I was in that room with Laire. When they took me away, I thought I had."

In response, his eyes softened slightly, but his jaw was still tight. He looked away from her and crossed to a nearby wall, leaning his weight upon it stiffly even as a muscle in his cheek twitched. "Why this? Why now?"

"You deserted the strike team, Luke." She struggled to keep her voice even. "In the middle of one of the most important battles in the Alliance's history, you up and left. And not only that, you allowed yourself to be captured and taken to the Death Star. Command wanted an explanation." She swallowed before saying softly, "I wanted an explanation."

His blue gaze met hers sharply. "You?"

Unable to hold his gaze any longer, she looked down at her booted feet. "I was scared. Scared that Laire had told me the truth, scared that you had somehow allowed family loyalty to override your loyalty to the Alliance, scared that all my trust in you had been betrayed."

Luke gave a dark chuckle. "You're one to talk of betrayed trust."

The remark cut deep. "I never stopped loving you, Luke."

"That's good to know," Luke responded flatly. "It's certainly comforting to know that the woman I grieved for all those months ago continued to love me while I thought she was dead."

"That's not fair!" Genna snapped, looking back up at him. "I had no choice."

"But I paid for it nevertheless!"

"And for that I am truly sorry, Luke," she cried, desperation compelling her to reach out and take his hand. But even as her fingers touched the skin of his right hand, he jerked it away. The action sent a shockwave of pain through her, but she pressed on, "Luke, it hurt me more than you know to leave you, to know that you thought I was dead. Don't think I didn't about you every day, wishing I could do something—send you a message, catch a glimpse of you—I don't know! I can only apologize for what has happened and move forward, Luke. I can't change the past."

"No, you can't." The anger and hurt had vanished from his voice, and the words had been spoken with a sense of quiet acceptance. In bewilderment, Genna stared at him as he pushed up the sleeve on his right arm and indicated the miniscule seam where the bionic hand had been fused to his skin. "And neither can I."

Genna knew what had happened on Bespin, but seeing the evidence chilled her. She tried to find her voice, but couldn't.

"Why did you come here to see me?" he asked.

Genna shook her head. She didn't know why she had felt such an intense desire to see him again, to show him that she was still alive after all this time. "I guess I thought you deserved to know the truth," she found herself saying. "Especially since things are different now. The things that kept me from ever contacting you no longer exist." She paused, studying the seam in his arm and the look in his eyes. "Though now it's clear that new elements have taken their place."

"Too much has happened too fast," Luke agreed softly. "I'm not the same person I was. I've loved and lost and hurt too much to be the same person you abandoned, Genna." He quickly amended, "The same person they took you away from, I mean."

Looking into his eyes, Genna could see the truth of what he spoke. The innocence was gone. Those blue eyes that had once seemed so trusting now seemed painfully cynical in comparison. Scars marked the once youthful face into which she had stared an eternity ago. "Neither of us is the same," she admitted softly, wishing fervently now that she had never emerged into Mon Mothma's office, had never revealed herself to him. "And I had no right to do this to you. I shouldn't have come back. I should have let Mon Mothma handle everything. I don't know what I was thinking, Luke. Believe me, my heart is breaking over all of this."

Luke sighed. "Well, hearts were meant to be broken," he said simply. There was a long pause before he spoke again, and this time it was in a voice much more gentle than before. The voice of the Luke she had known. "But the good thing about them is that they heal. Mine did. I never thought I'd be able to love again after you, but I did."

Something about this admission made Genna strangely uncomfortable. "You did?"

He nodded and sighed again. "Of course, she broke my heart, too." Before Genna could utter a response he continued with a wry smile, "And don't apologize again, because I saw you were going to."

A ghost of a smile tugged at her lips as she realized the truth of his statement. "Yes, I was."

"And I'm glad you came forward," he went on. "My curiosity would have gotten the better of me and I would have found out about the mystery informant sooner or later. I'm glad I found out from you."

With a sigh and a profound sense of sadness, Genna responded, "Then I'm glad I came forward." She took one last long look at him before saying, "So, I guess this is goodbye."

Luke nodded once more, Genna's own sadness mirrored in his face. "I think the only thing we can give each other now is closure."

Surprised at the sting in her eyes, Genna blinked quickly before any tears could form and leaned over to kiss his cheek gently. When her eyes locked on his once more, she whispered, "Do you know why I refused to believe Laire? You were too beautiful a man. Too compassionate, too honest, too inherently good. And, looking into your eyes, I can tell that you still are. You are going to make some woman incredibly happy, Luke Skywalker."

A faint hint of a smile curved the edges of his mouth and he replied, "And you will always have a piece of my heart, Genna Cage."

It was then that Genna knew the door had been closed. For better or worse, an end had come to Luke's Skywalker's presence in her life. It was time to move on, with no questions and no regrets. "Goodbye, Commander Skywalker," she said with a formal salute.

"Goodbye, Cage." This time, it was his turn to leave her, and she watched him continue his path toward the shuttle bay.

Yes, her heart had broken, but Luke was right. It would heal with time. After all, that's what hearts are meant to do.


End file.
